For the Love of Elune!
by Rudolfe
Summary: Cynical attitudes towards opposing factions are easily dispelled... cue rampant devilsaur. [ne/т] [reqυeѕтed]
1. Prologue

**I hold no claims of ownership over Warcraft.  
Blizzard Entertainment, however, does.**

**A requested idea.  
Writing style differs to suit this story's needs.**

.

_For the Love of Elune!  
_by Rudolfe

.

The elf grunted, not pleased with the smell that was emitting from the herb in her hands. Reeling back in disgust, she let the plant drop to the grass beneath. Wrinkling her nose, she stood up and surveyed her surroundings.

Large, overgrown plants obscured most of the sky and tall trees loomed over her head. There was little sign of civilisation to be seen. She narrowed her silver orbs and lifted her head, trying to distinguish the time, but to no avail.

Her instincts then spurred her to check for any nearby caves. Much to her luck, she found one several yards away after a few moments of prowling through nature.

Darting beneath some ferns, she waited for a few minutes till faint movement within the darkness-shrouded cavern caught her eye. Just as she had expected, the silhouette of a fully-ground raptor popped out as it cautiously sniffed the air. Abruptly, it snapped its head in the direction of the huntress.

Said huntress stiffened and she felt her muscles tense. Had it sensed her presence? Suspicious, she sniffed her upper arm. _No, I definitely do not smell. _As if responding to her thoughts, the beast turned away and began to slowly stalk through the marsh-like environment.

_Hmph, it appears night is settling in. The inhabitants of this blasted place must be getting ready to hunt. I'd better get a move on; Tenma will be waiting._

However, just as she had started to quicken her pace, she remembered she still had not gotten the needed herbs to treat her furry companion's infected wound. Guilt bit at her.

Tenma had been a gift from her mentor upon completing the trainings of a hunter. She and the big cat had since then become inseparable; and she felt the obligation to care for her longtime friend.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar roar echoing through the still air. Recognition shot through her.

_Tenma!_

There was no doubt he was in trouble. She sprinted towards the sound where it was starting to get louder and louder.

As she burst through the clearing, her eyes widened upon seeing a large olive raptor advancing towards a snarling Tenma. Its violet eyes gleamed as it let out a sharp screech. She knew that sound well - it signalled its impending attack.

Her reflexes kicked in as she grabbed the bow that had been slung over her back. Latching on an arrow from her quiver, she released it from its nocking point.

The reptilian animal took an arrow to the knee before letting out an earsplitting shriek. Its heavy frame collapsed with a loud thud.

Just as she went over to Tenma's side, a faint blur of pale blue came into her sight and she heard a string of unfamiliar words being uttered accompanying the vision.

Fierce amber eyes met hers, and she had just gotten a glimpse of large tusks marked with paint before she was knocked roughly onto the ground.

_Oh great, a troll._

_._


	2. Dunces & Dinos

.

_This_ was why Isera Silverstream hated Un'Goro Crater - or anywhere apart from the lush greens of her homeland. Not only was it filled with danger, you could hardly find your way around with most of your view blocked by trees and worst of all, may even come across certain foes.

She may be a ranger; a dweller amongst nature, but this place was far too alien to her. Isera disliked how misty and foggy it was all the time.

_Good for camouflaging, but not when you want some fresh air._

She could barely tell the difference between dawn and dusk in this place. Besides, she was getting sick of having to dodge most of the locals. She'd much rather kill them off to save time; but her _shan'do_ had taught her that the taking of one's life without good reason wasn't looked upon with favour.

Now here she was. In one of the most remote areas of Un'Goro Crater. Her cat was injured, and she was pinned to the moist ground by one of her mortal enemies.

Why hadn't she remained in Ashenvale, instead?

_Damn questgivers._

"Dat be ma mount yer be hurtin', mon," her assaulter breathed in Common, pressing the edges of his axe closer to her neck. Isera didn't wince when it drew blood. Rather, she defiantly lifted her chin. His touch made her want to cringe.

"Get your filthy hands off me, _troll_," she hissed, flinging his race at him like an insult. She was awarded with a loud snarl and the blade cut deeper. From the side, Tenma let out a loud roar; the infection was nothing against his system.

He would have leapt to her defense, but Isera had already used her free leg - silly troll - to kick the fiend off of her. Since the Kal'dorei were muscular, their strength were an advantage to them. As he grunted and staggered back, she jumped up and bared her teeth at him - a feral instinct all of her kind had.

In turn, his raptor lifted its head and let out an agonised screech, clearly wanting to help its owner. Isera smirked at its helplessness - her arrow had done good.

The troll recovered quickly and charged towards her, swinging his bulky weapon at her neck. Thankful for all the training she had received, the elf easily dodged his rage-fuelled attack. She could tell he hadn't planned his moves; he was merely acting according to his feelings.

_Hmph, he must be angry at me injuring his raptor._

"Stupid elf," he spat. "Yer be payin' for wat yer done." In response, Isera merely smiled mockingly.

"We'll see about that." The two continued clashing. Soon enough, the troll had gathered his thoughts and was now lashing out with wind-like precision that betrayed his quick thinking. By now she had ditched ranged attacks - melee would be more interesting.

As her attacker evaded a quick swipe of her dagger, he swiftly crouched down and attempted to lose her balance by aiming for her legs. Unluckily for him, she had already predicted his moves before it was too late. Jumping slightly, she barely missed his axe.

_For a putrid member of the rancid Horde, he fights well._

As she was about to make her last move that was sure to ensure her victory on his head, the realisation on why Tenma was not assisting her came to mind. Glancing briefly to the side, shock hit her when she saw him crushed beneath the triumphant raptor, growling in objection.

_Shit. When did that happen?_

Yet it wasn't the time to ask questions. Isera shifted her attention back towards her own battle.

The tusked freak rammed against her and she felt herself being pushed back.

That brief moment of distraction had caused her to become vulnerable... and to lose her chance of supremacy.

Biting back a curse at her carelessness, she gasped as rock met spine. Pain shot up her back as something large and sharp dug into her, and she clenched her weapon tighter. Breathing heavily, she unwillingly slunk to the grass and glanced upwards as gloating laughter erupted from the barbarian.

Distaste filled her. He was strong. Perhaps she had underestimated his burliness.

Isera willed herself to get up, but sharp pain resounded through her as she arched her back. She gritted her teeth - the jagged, pointy sides of that confounded wall had pierced through her leather armour and caused her to bleed; maybe even temporarily paralysing her to a certain extent. It must have hit one of her nerve joints. Anger filled her bloodstream.

_I am a night elf. I have fought worse battles than this short-lived mutt! How can I lose to him?_

"Look like da elf is weak," said troll thundered, smirking as he towered over her curled figure. "Dem weak ones should die. Dey be useless for anythin'."

"Give... me... _one_ good reason not to kill you right here and now," she vehemently said, willing her last ounce of strength to grab her bow and arrow.

"_Kill_ Sen'ji?" he crowed. Ah, so Sen'ji was his name. "Da elf can try!" he snorted, crouching to meet her eye to eye.

Isera narrowed her eyes, strands of her navy hair falling forward. The impact with the wall had caused her bound hair to become loose.

Silence fell between them as they glared at each other. Flame to frost, ice to fire.

Isera figured he was soaking in his win.

_It's only a matter of time before he kills me, or takes me captive to bring back to Orgrimmar._

Once again she blamed herself for getting distracted while exchanging blows with the warrior.

_Else I wouldn't be in such a pathetic state_, she thought bitterly. _Whatever would Ibran say_? she added dryly as she thought back to her stern yet kind mentor. She had not gone through two thousand years of training to lose so easily to a Horde. Or anyone, in that matter.

The blue-skinned male had just opened his mouth when a deep roar shattered whatever silence that laid between the duo. It hurt her ears, and was too loud to be far away.

_A devilsaur!_

All thoughts and images of her strangling him dissipated, and Isera felt the alarm bells ring.

Devilsaurs were related to the raptors, but larger... and very much stronger. They were like giant lizards with sharp teeth that could crush through bones, and large claws that could shred an enemy to bits. Normally such faunas wouldn't prove to be too much of a problem to her, but with her current self, she was practically a sitting duck.

By the look on the troll that mirrored her own, she guessed he too knew what sort of creature had let out that call.

_Great, he's probably going to end my life and then run off to save his own skin._

The second she thought that, the troll straightened and turned before dashing away, leaving the huntress incredulous and gobsmacked.

"Hey!" she yelled as loud as her strength would allow her. While she was glad he had not killed her, she felt irked by his actions. By Elune, did he really leave her to a possible death?

_Heartless bastard._

Isera took in a deep breath. There wasn't much time left. She could distinctly hear another roar in the distance.

_So now there's two devilsaurs dangerously close to us?_

Feeling even more irritated, she looked around her, trying to pick out anything that could help her out of her stiff position. She was much too crippled to move on her own accord.

_Damn warriors._

Unfortunately, there was none.

Isera felt anxiety rise up in her. What was she going to do?

_Wait. _She frowned. _There is one possible way..._

The question of finding a possible solution had been answered. The only question that remained was whether it would work. Isera gritted her teeth - she had to try. The more time she wasted, the less chance she would get in avoiding a fight against one - or worse, two - devilsaurs. Usually when one let out a cry, it was to rally another of its species; usually its mate.

Or it was a tactic to find a mate. It wasn't the mating season, though.

Isera stared dubiously at her own hands.

She wasn't a devout worshipper of Elune, and had her doubts about the Moon Goddess. She had heard tales of the mother of the greatly revered Cenarius coming to her children's aid in times of need, but still, she was uncertain.

_Does faith influence prayer?_

Sod it. She had to try.

Her resolve strengthening, she clasped her hands together and shut her eyes, whispering ancient words of worship in her people's language to the moonlit sky. For the first time in a long while, she earnestly and sincerely prayed.

She hadn't expected anything to occur, but it had.

As she prayed, a soothing sensation washed over her, calming her thoughts and whirling emotions. She felt comforted and safe as the unearthly aura wrapped around her.

Just as quickly as it had happened, it disappeared.

Isera opened her eyes again, silver irises shining brighter than ever. She felt stronger and calmer. The bit of energy she had lost through prayer was now insignificant when compared to whatever she now gained from the goddess.

It was definite - her respect for Elune had just increased ten-fold.

With her newly-found strength and determination, she got up without much difficulty and hastily made her way back towards the clearing. She had not noticed that while fighting the spawn from Outlands, they had unconsciously moved some distance away from the camp.

_Tenma! _The name flashed in her mind in a blink. How he was right now, she had no idea. The last time she had seen him was below a certain foul raptor's arse.

If he hadn't found her when she was leaning against the rocks, or especially now, when she was heading back, he himself must be in a weakened state.

_Obviously, he must be weak. I bet that raptor weighed over thirty tons, _she sarcastically thought to herself. Isera then worried whether any of his weaker bones had been fractured by the fat beast.

Bursting back into the all-too familiar arena, she felt herself sigh with relief upon the sight of Tenma curled up and panting. The raptor no longer sat upon him. Looking up, he let out a pleased growl. Affection welled up within her.

_Selfless kitty._

Her mood soured when she noticed the troll standing by the side, back facing her. He was strapping a saddle upon the raptor's back. On seeing her, it let out a warning cry.

As he turned, his own eyes widened upon taking in her upright form. It was evident he was curious on how she managed to even move after what he had done to her. He said nothing and turned away, continuing in his chore.

_Good, at least even he is aware of which danger is a priority_, she blinked. It would be silly if the two fought again. Most likely while they clashed blades, a devilsaur would sneak up behind them and it would be the end. They would settle this later, provided he didn't escape from her keen sight.

_No, he's not going to get away without getting a taste of his own medicine._

Turning back towards her companion, she crouched down and giving him an assuring scratch behind the ears, summoned whatever healing magic she knew and then healed his wounds - both inner and outer. Isera never liked using magic to heal if herbs and poultices were available. Of course, now, it would be quicker and safer to just use magic.

As the faint green glow around her hands faded away, a tremor ran through the floor from her left.

_So soon? _She looked up in alarm.

A second tremor came her right.

That definitely wasn't a good sign. It meant the two already-nearby devilsaurs were now heading their way... in larger steps.

_They must have heard noises, _she realised and then frowned. _No doubt us. _It hadn't occurred to her that their fighting had been _that _audible.

After grabbing her belongings, Isera had turned to leave the clearing with Tenma behind her.

It would be more of a risk running than hiding; they might bump into the two giants on their way.

_Anyhow, the sounds will attract too much attention._

Then, something caught her attention.

A tuft of ebony-blue hair stuck out from a clump of bushes and ferns.

His mount's head popped out and it let out a protest, seemingly having the same thoughts as herself.

_For the love of Elune, he's an idiot._

As tempted as she was to leave him there to die as he had done her, she didn't. She wasn't _that _cruel.

Besides, she wanted him to be _alive_ when she battled him again.

"Fool!" she hissed and the troll glanced up.

"What'cha want, elf?" he impatiently demanded, amber gaze searching whatever encircled him.

"Do you think you'll be able to hide from the devilsaurs like that?" she said in exasperation, gesturing at the greenery; and she thought trolls knew better, seeing how they were _raised _in forests.

_This one must be a dunce._

"Sen'ji know wad he be doin', mon," he shot back, annoyed. "I be kind now - da little elf best be goin' before Sen'ji kills ya."

_Well, this guy has humility._

"As much as I applaud you for your smartness, it's not going to work," she shook her head, the tremors were getting stronger and yet another roar sounded, thunderous than ever before. "Come on!" she urged.

He merely ignored her and ducked back down.

_Argh! That's it._

Stomping towards him, she darted down and glancing through the holes of his 'hiding spot', grabbed his two tusks and yanked.

Hard.

She dragged him deeper into the woods where she knew little mobs roamed, at the same time ignoring his furious ranting and curses. His raptor seemed unaffected, trailing behind and chattering excitedly. Tenma eyed the two, distrust swimming in his golden globes.

Once she was certain they were far from the camp and covered enough, she let loose her grip and the troll fell forward.

"What'cha think—" he started but she cut him off.

"Stay silent and get down!" she ordered, warily looking for the two colossi. The troll, grumbling and muttering under his breath, surprisingly obeyed.

_At last, he sees sense._

Thus the couple remained in this way as two black-yellow figures appeared in the far distance. They were so large it was impossible to not see them. Isera held her breath. Though she was certain they would be safe - devilsaurs' scent of smell were a weak point - she couldn't help but worry.

The larger devilsaur - no doubt the male - swerved his massive head, yellow organs of sight glinting, looking for the culprits that had caused such a ruckus before. When he spotted nothing, he then began to vociferate. The smaller one, which was the female, merely sniffed the air to no avail. The two then began to stalk off away from the direction the group was in.

Once they turned away, Isera exhaled. Feeling much more at ease, she was just about to turn around when pain exploded at the rear of her head.

The muffled sounds of roaring and screeching was all she could pick up before her world went black.

.


	3. Stockholm Syndrome

.

Soreness...

It remained even as she woke up, groggy and half-conscious of her surroundings and pretty much everything. Everything in her view of sight came off as fuzzy and unclear. The only things she was distinctively aware of was that she was lying on a cold, hard surface on her side and something orange-yellow burned in front of her.

_What... exactly... happened?_

She frowned, wincing as her head throbbed painfully. Shutting her eyes, she struggled to place back pieces of whatever memories she had previously.

She had just recollected having felt a sharp pain - its after-effects weren't much different from the original - at the back of her head when a cool, accented voice sounded.

"Finally awake, are ya?"

Isera blinked, startled. It had come from the far, dark corner of... of a _cave_?

_What in Elune's name...?_

Then, everything rushed back to her.

Picking herbs... hearing Tenma's roar... coming head to head with a member of the Horde... hiding from devilsaurs and then getting _knocked out_!

She now had little doubt that the shrouded speaker was none other than the buffoon, Sen'ji.

The very troll who had just labelled himself as a backstabbing, ungrateful whelp.

_He must have knocked me out before dragging me here!_

Completely wide awake and feeling a sense of panic and anger surge through her, she hissed instinctively at the approaching dark figure. As he got closer, the light from the campfire - she realised soon after - illuminated his amused expression.

Ignoring her glare, he calmly sat by her and kept silent, amber gaze still on her and the edges of his lips twitched.

_Is he... laughing at me? _Her fury increased by ten-fold.

As Isera attempted to sit up so she could give him a good beating - and perhaps torture him before that - she found out with much horror that she couldn't.

Her hands and legs were bound together by a thick coil of rough rope.

"You!" she snarled, at a loss of words. Indeed, no words in the world could currently express just what she was feeling towards the troll. Furious, she tried in vain to release herself from the rough bounds, and let out a soft gasp as it cut into her purple-blue flesh. It was clear she wouldn't be able to free herself from them alone.

She felt despair descend upon her as she finally accepted her pathetic, hopeless state.

The least she could do was make him answer the remaining questions that swarmed through her head like an army of angry wasps.

"Where... is Tenma?" she growled, still affected by her headache. She wondered just what he had used to whack her so brutally. Sen'ji snorted in laughter and waved one three-fingered hand in the air.

"Da elf no worry," he assured - Isera suspected he wasn't assuring her, but was in fact, mocking her. "Da kitty be fine. Sen'ji Jr. be keepin' both eye on 'im."

As much as Isera didn't want to believe him, she somewhat knew inside her that her pet was indeed safe. She still pondered worriedly where he could be, though.

_If they made him so much as even go near water, I'll decapitate them both._

"You freaking _bastard_," she abruptly erupted. "You had _better _let me go right now or I swear, I'll make the remainder of your short life hell," she threatened ferociously, forcing her stiff body to move closer to him. "Is this how you treat your damn _saviour_? I've just saved your bloody _ass_, you slithering worm!"

Unfazed, Sen'ji replied, "Da elf may have saved Sen'ji," he agreed before his gaze hardened. "—but yer still Alliance scum."

"_What_?" she demanded. "I'll show you who's the real scum here, _mortal_!" she spat, glowering at the seemingly unaffected being. Usually she would steer clear of vulgarities, but right now she couldn't care less about it. "Let me go or else, _troll."_

She was surprised when he burst into a deep, throaty laugh. "Or else, wat?" he crowed. "From wat Sen'ji be seein', da little elf can't even free 'erself from _rope_! How da elf goin' ta hurt Sen'ji?" he sneered.

Isera fell silent.

_Urgh_, she angrily thought, knowing he had a point.

_So basically... I'm now a prisoner._

_I can't free myself so there's little chance of escaping._

_Tenma may be alive but I'm sure he's feeling as much discomfort as I am now. Hmm, perhaps I could get him to chew past these ropes._

_My weapons... _she hopefully twisted her head to glance over her shoulder. Disappointment hit her.

_...Aren't there, so... no chance of killing this tusked monster._

_For all the glory of Elune... I can't believe that I am - for the first time - being held helpless._

_How embarrassing._

"What are you going to do with me?" she quietly enquired, half wanting and half dreading the answer. Sen'ji looked taken aback at her sudden question, as though he himself had not thought of it. Silent for a few moments, he subsequently shrugged.

"We be headin' ta Tanaris."

"...What?" she whispered, horrified. Tanaris was on the path to _Orgrimmar_ \- capital of the orcs. Did that mean...

_My life is going to be over at the brink of my youth._

Seeing her terrified - she wasn't aware of it - expression, Sen'ji broke into a hearty laugh again.

"Sen'ji not bein' _dat_ cruel," he grinned, flashing his shockingly sharp teeth. Isera was gobsmacked it wasn't yellow. "We be headin' ta Tanaris to meet me old friend."

"Then what?" she snorted. "Are you two going to decide my fate?" Sen'ji frowned slightly - she was a mercurial tiny elf.

"Aye, mon," he replied, not thinking too much into it.

Unbeknownst to him, Isera was rather pleased with his reply. It meant she still had a chance to escape, after all. In addition, if his friend wasn't bloodthirsty and the like...

"Okay," she said, albeit too eagerly. She mentally slapped herself as Sen'ji gave her a suspicious look, but it disappeared as soon as it had appeared.

Turning away, he brought two fingers to his lips and whistled.

An all-too familiar raptor happily trotted in with a dark nightsaber trailing behind, clearly unhappy.

"Tenma!" Isera cried in surprise. The big cat looked up from the ground and within a nanosecond, was upon her licking and purring. Pleasure filled Isera - he wasn't hurt in any form.

_Sen'ji was telling the truth?_ she thought, astonished.

Sen'ji hurriedly pulled the feline off and he let out a growl in protest. Sen'ji didn't fancy her cat biting through the ropes of his captive.

Getting the hint that something unfavourable would occur should he continue to leap onto her, Tenma let out a cat-ish grumble and settled himself by his owner's side, continuing to purr at the proximity.

The raptor let out a soft shriek and came forward to the elf-whose-right-side-was-starting-to-ache. It then let out a weird sound before nudging her head with its own. The action took Isera by surprise. The troll glanced up from adjusting his chestpiece and his amber eyes narrowed.

"Seem like Ol' Sen'ji Jr. has taken a liking to da elf," he voiced aloud, looking just as flabbergasted as herself.

A light went off in her head.

"What is your raptor's name?" she lightly asked. Sen'ji frowned again.

"Did da elf not hear? Sen'ji have already said it two times. Sen'ji Jr."

"_Sen'ji Jr_?" she repeat, incredulous. She couldn't help a smile breaking onto her face, despite her current situation. "Sen'ji Jr!"

"Wat be wrong wit' dat?" he defended, a pale pink appearing in two spots on his cheeks. "Sen'ji hadn't dought of a proper name, yet," he snapped, looking embarrassed. He expressed it by standing up and looking away. "He don't seem ta mind it, too."

"Alright, alright," Isera held her laughter back. "Sen'ji Jr," she solemnly addressed the raptor and he let out a friendly chirp.

_For someone whose race is supposed to be vicious, he's not that bad. Even his raptor is rather friendly, unlike the others... _At this she scowled to herself, reminiscing on past encounters.

As Sen'ji moved about the cave, dumping his and her belongings - she was astounded he had not thrown her stuff down a waterfall or something - at the other end, Isera took the time to _properly_ scrutinise him. Previously it had been too dim for her to study him closely, and the brightness given off by the fire was now able to rectify that.

He was now standing straight, and she held to bite back her uneasiness at just how tall he was, for he was taller than even her own kind! His body was toned, muscular, and he had broad shoulders. He wasn't bulky like an orc, though, or as slim as a blood elf. His skin was the same shade of pale blue as before, but she now noticed that his hair was not blue... but rather a deep dark, forest green. It was long, ruffled, spiky, and reached his upper back. Two large - they weren't _overly _large, thank the Goddess - tusks jutted out by the sides of his mouth.

Isera herself had long, wavy dark-blue hair that cascaded down till her lower back; plus a pair of silver eyes that literally glowed bright in the day and brighter during night. Like most of her sisters, she was considered beautiful with her angular face and sharp features.

As she continued to eye him, Sen'ji Jr curled up on her other side, his hard snout pressing firmly but gently into her back.

_He's pretty handsome for a troll... _she suddenly found herself thinking with approval. Making a face at her unwanted thoughts, she quickly said, "Urm, Sen'ji?"

"Ya, mon?" he replied, pausing in his task of adding more wood to feed the devouring flames to look at her.

"I was just thinking... could I please get up?" At his I-don't-get-it look, she groaned inwardly. Jerking her head at her position, she explained, "My sides are starting to hurt."

"Ah," he grinned. "I be seein' where ya comin' from. Da elf has been in dat position for hours, now. Sore, aren't'cha?"

"Quite," she mumbled, feeling herself blush. His amber stare could really seem to sear through her. Sen'ji snorted in laughter before placing down the firewood.

Taking her shoulders - his grip was surprisingly gentle - he pulled her up with ease till she was sitting upright. The two beasts opened one of their great eyes and adjusted themselves accordingly, much to the amusement of the ranger.

Feeling much more comfortable, she mumbled her thanks. If she had asked him to loosen her bonds instead, he would most likely assume she was trying to escape, and would thus reject. Honestly, it _had_ been one of her ideas, but she knew it would be near impossible to accomplish. She could only make do with sitting straight at the moment.

_He's a jerk for repaying me like this, but my captivity is not at all what I've expected._

_I mean, he doesn't hit or shout at me, for one. He's actually pretty considerate and... ah, unlike his cousins. _At this she thought back to the barbaric trolls of the Amani Empire.

_Sen'ji's behaviour right now is a contrast from when I first met him... _she continued on in her head thoughtfully, not noticing that Sen'ji had caught her thoughtful expression. Unknown to her, he was thinking the exact same thing.

_Hmm, I should repay his kindness somehow; strange to believe I actually felt like slaughtering him just mere moments ago._ She smiled to herself.

_Stranger that I don't feel angry anymore, too. _Isera shook her head willfully.

_Hmph, I'm too kind-hearted for my own good._

She was dragged out from her personal cloud when Sen'ji plopped himself down by her face. Startled, she reeled her head back, thinking that perhaps her thoughts were starting to prove wrong when she caught the rearranging of his facial attributes that gave off his interest about something.

"What?" she cautiously asked.

"Sen'ji just be wonderin' where da elf got her markin's' from," he shrugged.

_Hmph, he must have been studying my face while I was unconscious. _Discomfit formed itself in her brain the more she thought about it. She pushed it away, focusing her attention on the two now-sound asleep beasts.

"They're my people's version of tattoos," she softly replied, memories of her childhood and adolescence years rushing forth. She suddenly felt homesick. She didn't have any reason to go back to Ashenvale at the moment, but still, she missed and yearned for it. It was home. "Similar to you trolls' war paint, but it's permanent." At this she jerked her head again towards his curved tusks.

Out of the blue, he then appeared self-conscious and strangely, affronted; which was one reaction Isera was _not _expecting. It amused her.

"I've seen some elves wit' more tattoos dan yers," he hurriedly said in turn.

"You must mean druids," she blinked and then shrugged her stiff shoulders. It felt good to finally get some movement back into her; better than lying half-immobilised on the freezing ground. "They just get extra markings on them due to their profession. We non-druids merely have less, but we still get them."

Her amusement heightened as he nodded, looking like a student who was pleased to gain a new piece of valuable information.

"So wat does da elf's markings symbolise?" he questioned, looking genuinely curious. Isera blinked again - it was weird having a member of a Horde that interested in their enemies' culture. Still, she herself was curious about him, and too had questions to ask. She would never admit - even to herself - that she felt somewhat flattered by his attention to her.

"Each represents a leaf," she simply said. Her markings were like blood splatters - seeing how they were red to complement her dark hair colour. They edged from the bottom of her eyebrows to down her cheeks. She usually got compliments from fellow elves because of it.

"Da elf must like leaves, den," Sen'ji concluded, smirking. The night elf merely rolled her eyes.

"I have a name, you know." She was getting sick of being referred to as 'da elf'.

"Wat is it, den?" he prompted.

"Isera. Isera Silverstream."

"Isera?" Now it was his turn to look incredulous. She flushed.

"I was named after Ysera, the Great Dragon Aspect," she patiently explained, though slightly irked at his reaction.

_Is my name that bad?_

"I know dat," he huffed, and she reckoned he felt insulted by her tone.

_Speaking of which..._

"How did you even find a vacant cave, anyway?" she asked accusingly, narrowing her glowing orbs at him. Raptors never left a potential nest empty. Sen'ji shifted in his seat, clearly put off by her stern demeanor. Mercurial, he told himself for the second time.

"Sen'ji cleared dem all," he told her, puffing out his chest by a milimetre. "Dey be gone now. Dem raptors won't come back anytime soon." Isera nodded in silent reply as other questions reminded her of their presence.

"How long was I knocked out?" she enquired, not looking at him.

The topic of him whacking her like a brute was still a sensitive subject. Sen'ji shifted again, wary. It seemed more of an inquiry than enquiry, in his eyes.

"About four hours, it be nightfall now."

"I see."

Silence hung over them like a suffocating cloud. At last he - reluctantly? - got up and looked down at her. Isera was once more stupefied by his height.

"Da elf best be gettin' some sleep," he gruffly muttered. "Ya be needin' it."

She sniffed as he walked away to the other end of the light-deprived cave after covering her in the blanket he had dug out from her pack.

_'Da elf' again..._

—a_nd how am I suppose to sleep comfortably when I'm tied up in knots?_

.


	4. Jungle Adventure

.

A firm prod on her shoulder jerked Isera awake - she was quite the light sleeper - and she looked about confusedly before remembering. Scowling at being disturbed, she inched away from the two-toed foot. She was awarded with another, rougher nudge. Irritated, she looked up to the troll that towered above her.

_At least my headache has subsided_. It was an attempt to comfort herself; just to make sure she didn't leap for his throat.

"What do you want?" she demanded. "It's still dark out there," she pointed out irritably, using her neck to gesture towards the opening of the cave. Sen'ji had covered the gap with ferns and moss to prevent outsiders, but she could still see through the gaps between.

"Sen'ji dought night elves _liked_ da night," he frowned, squinting in the dark to get a closer look at her. The fire had long been put out, thus there was little light in the darker-than-ever cave. "I dought da elf would prefer it dat way 'cuz we be leavin' Un'Goro Crata now."

To this Isera did not reply. Night elves were indeed nocturnal, and preferred being less active during the day. However, she was so tired from the previous day's events that she couldn't care less about whether the sun was up or not, and about her captor's thoughtfulness.

Sen'ji snorted and nudged her again with more force. "Get up," he ordered, a hint of annoyance ringing in his voice.

Knowing better than to continue defying him, Isera lifted her head and stared straight into his eyes.

"I can't," she simply stated. "Not on my own."

To her relief, she didn't need to elaborate, since Sen'ji had taken the hint and had hauled her upright by then.

"We're leaving right now?" she confirmed, watching him scuttle around to pack several things. The raptor and cat still snoozed peacefully on both sides, not in the least disturbed in their slumber.

_Unlike me_, she grumpily thought, wishing she could go back to sleep.

"Ya, mon," he replied. "It be takin' a while to get ta Tanaris." Isera furrowed her brows thoughtfully.

"That'll depend on our location at the moment," she replied quietly. "Where exactly are we?"

_If he replies Un'Goro Crater, I'll yank on his tusks again._

Thankfully, the troll said no such words. Rather, his words were, "In a cave by da Marshlands. We be close to Ironstone Plateau."

Satisfaction ran through her body at his answer. In turn, she nodded, though she knew he wouldn't see it. After all, he _was _facing his back towards her while dismantling the campfire.

_Not that far from Tanaris, then, _she thought approvingly, reliving her distaste for her current location. Her previous camp had been in the Rolling Gardens, which was north of the Marshlands, and beside Fungal Rock. Then, her subconscious punched her.

_What are you thinking? The faster you get to Tanaris, the quicker your impending death will be! Did you forget you're being held prisoner by your mortal enemy here? _Her eyes widened and she was fully awake in a matter of seconds.

_By Elune, how could I have forgotten? _she gritted her teeth. _I need to get out of these bonds soon._

However, she turned her head to follow the shrinking figure of the male as he crossed over to the area where he had slept.

_Must be packing his blankets_, she mentally noted, eyeing the strewn pieces of thick cloth on the ground.

Though she was half laughing at just how slow he did things, she couldn't help but think : _I don't think Sen'ji's going to kill me... I mean, his behaviour towards me definitely says a few things! Besides, just because Tanaris is on the way to Orgrimmar, it doesn't mean he's going to bring me there._

_Better safe than sorry, _her survival instincts whispered. Knowing her tendency for safety was right, she relinquished.

_I'll find a way to slip off later_, she told herself while pushing away her feelings of guilt. Sen'ji really _did _seem to be a kind troll... how would he feel if he had discovered she'd secretively made her escape? They did seem to have become closer after their conversation.

_He's a Horde_, she hastily waved it off._ I shouldn't trust members of the Horde; let alone care about them. I'm sure they wouldn't do the same for the Alliance. Anyhow, I don't know him that well._

At that moment, Sen'ji appeared in front of her with Sen'ji Jr; all ready to set off.

Isera had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed the rest waking up and moving. Tenma licked her elbow, purring loudly. She was amazed how at ease he was compared to before. She figured the troll must have done something.

_...Or he really doesn't sense any malicious intent in Sen'ji._

As she stood up - with much difficulty due to her stiff joints and not-yet-recovered back - with the aid of him, she couldn't help feeling guilty again.

.

...

.

Isera was feeling awkward in the position she was in.

After loosening the bonds by her feet - it wasn't loose enough for her to break free and run screaming - just enough for her to walk, she had made the awful mistake of tripping over a rock and twisting her ankle. Sen'ji had laughed at her, mocking her for being careless. She had defended herself by claiming blood circulation in her feet had been slowed down due to her bonds and she not moving much.

Of course, he didn't buy it, and merely chuckled again before yanking her up. The bad thing was that both didn't have much knowledge of first aid, and he didn't know healing magic while she was too weak - for the love of Elune, she hadn't had a proper meal since her fight with him! - to do so. All food supplies in her pack were diminished, as well.

Therefore, Sen'ji had come up with a plan that she was reluctant to accept.

That was to ride on Sen'ji Jr with him, since she wouldn't be able to walk alongside him without 'fallin' ova yer face', as Sen'ji had flatly put it.

She had only accepted after he said he would remove the binds from her feet for her to ride without much trouble.

So there she was now, seated rather uncomfortably upon the olive beast's back, with the large troll behind her in hold of the reins. Tenma followed behind, eyeing her with his large eyes, clearly concerned for her well-being.

_No elf should ever ride upon a raptor's back_, she winced. _They're too bumpy to even sit still on. How do trolls manage it? _At that moment, she yearned for sabers reared in her people's stables. At least _they _would prove to be more reliable. Isera wasn't sure if she wouldn't fall off. She could only thank having the saddle to grip on to.

_If the ropes don't hinder me_, she dryly said in her head, looking down at her connected hands. Her limbs were beginning to feel numb and constricted. _Why did he have to tie it that tight?_

"Da elf should've a mount," Sen'ji suddenly rumbled as they treaded slowly through the dark woods, keeping close to the mountains by their left.

_Uh oh, he must be unhappy._ He definitely didn't sound so, though.

She let out a shaky, somewhat apologetic laugh.

"I don't usually have the need for one."

"_Wad_?" was his immediate reply. He sounded astounded and dubious. She nodded.

"Usually, I am able to get to places quickly without one," she briefly explained. "It's less of a trouble, too."

"Da elf is weird," he muttered, shifting in his seat. Isera could feel his movement from behind; seeing how much larger and heavier he was compared to her. Heck, he was taller than her even when he walked about crouched.

Isera didn't reply, she was too occupied in trying to ensure her back did not touch his chest.

One of the disadvantages of her riding with him was their proximity.

Due to it, she was terrified of his tusks stabbing her whenever he moved so much of an inch. To her luck, he was aware of it, and thus had positioned himself to make sure she didn't get poked.

Their legs were already brushing against each other - thank the Goddess her armour protected her further - and she didn't fancy having to add the feeling of two sharp edges drilling into her skull.

The second disadvantage was how nervous and restless it made her.

For one, she could pretty much smell his scent and even breathing. If it was any compliment, she thought he didn't smell bad.

_He just smells of... of... bah! I have no words for it. It just smells strange, but not unpleasant._

_Must be some troll thing._

Not to mention, she was petrified by the realisation of her being a sitting duck to his attacks...should he ever decide upon one.

Last of all, he was a _male_. It was only natural she should feel uneasy about them being so close to one another. Especially as his gender's counterpart.

_He doesn't seem to be affected by this arrangement at all_, she noticed. _Well, good for him._

If anything, she thought he was happy with it.

_He must be_, she huffed, bitter. _Knowing just how helpless and not-in-control I am. Sadist._

Feeling her mood sour, she made herself busy by studying the two sacks hanging by the saddle. She was pleasantly surprised he had brought her stuff along. Then again, he hadn't thrown it away when she was unconscious.

"Why didn't you throw my bag away?" Isera felt horror descend on her. She had unwillingly voiced her thoughts aloud. Sen'ji remained quiet for a moment, as though contemplating if he should answer. After a while, he shrugged.

"Da bag must hold some precious dings ta da elf," he said nonchalantly.

_Yes... like my money pouch._

"Oh," she said, still somewhat surprised at his compassion. "Well, thanks."

_What a strange troll._

"I had thought you would just kill me off. Isn't that what your kind do?"

There, again. She had voiced out another of her thoughts.

Holding back a curse, she waited in dread for his answer. She didn't want to think how many possible ones he could come up with.

She looked back over her shoulder in shock as laughter erupted from him.

Remembering where they were, he lowered his tone. The sun had not risen yet, and it was risky to awake the sleeping monsters of Un'Goro Crater; especially when majority of them were aggressive and vicious.

"Yer be one quirky elf," he shook his head in amusement.

She waited for him to speak more, but he didn't. She then shifted her gaze to her right foot - her twisted one. It hung limply by Sen'ji Jr's side.

At the thought of Sen'ji Jr, yet another light went off in her head.

"Didn't I shoot him in the knee?"

_How can he still stand?_

"Dat?" Sen'ji snorted, clearly not affected by it. "It be nothin'."

"Really?" she sarcastically shot back. "There's no signs of a wound - let alone a scar," she continued, her words based on whatever memories she had of the reptilian beast. Then, it hit her.

_Does he know healing magic?_

She was aware certain classes of trolls could heal themselves and their allies, but those classes were, in fact, just one class...and Sen'ji wasn't a shaman. He was a warrior. That she guessed after seeing him charge towards her. Her brows arched upwards.

_Do troll warriors learn magic?_

_If he does know healing magic... _she clenched her fists tighter. The thought of him intentionally making her suffer was nearly sufficient for her to twist around and break his neck.

"Sen'ji know no sorcery, if dat wat yer be dinkin'," Sen'ji hastily put in, very much conscious of where her mind was going to.

"Then what did you use to heal his wound?" she snapped.

"It be a healin' potion, mon," he sighed, relenting as he swerved to the right to avoid a tree and boulder. "I bought it from da vendor before comin' 'ere."

_Ah, that explains it... but isn't he a fool to just buy one? _As she wondered this, she mumbled her apologies and kept her gaze fixed on the horizon, feeling her cheeks warm by her embarrassment. The thought of the sun rising and shining bright into her eyes wasn't too appealing to the huntress.

"How far are we from Tanaris?" she attempted to break the layer of awkwardness that now lay between them. However, she truly was curious. They had been travelling for quite a while now, and seeing how near they were to the entrance of the desert at the beginning, she predicted they didn't have to go on for much further.

_I could really use a break off this surface_, she bit her lip as Sen'ji Jr leaped over a log. The way his spine was structured seemed to go through the supposedly-thick saddle. His bones pressed into her, and she refused to complain about it; no matter how much it was causing her to ache. It would make her resemble a child too much.

"Not far now," Sen'ji replied after a pause and suspicion rose up in her.

Why did he sound unsure?

Annoyed, Isera looked up, studying her surroundings. Her eyes squinted as she took in the tall trees, dewy grass and lightening sky.

Her silver orbs flickered in recognition.

"We've been here before!" she exclaimed in surprise. When Sen'ji did not reply, she turned around before narrowing her globes at him. "You're lost, aren't you?"

Since it wasn't a question, it was practically a statement.

Uncomfortable beneath her scorching glare, Sen'ji shrugged. It was his turn to be sheepish.

Her mood dampened.

_Fool._

"Trolls..." she hissed under her breath. She looked back at him angrily. "How can you _even_ get lost here? Every section of Un'Goro Crater is _different_."

"I merely made a mistake," Sen'ji snarled, looking impatient. "Sen'ji neva been 'ere before."

"_I _second that!" she growled. "Don't you have a map?" When he hesitantly answered in the affirmative, she heaved, "Then go check it!"

Isera continued ranting to herself as Sen'ji got off Sen'ji Jr. "How hard is it to just go _straight_? It's nearly impossible to go around in circles!"

Sen'ji shot her a look as he opened up his own bag. She could tell he wasn't pleased, but she didn't bother about it.

"Perhaps warriors should undergo hunter training," she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. "All they know is bloodshed and all they feel is bloodthirst."

After that outburst, Isera had honestly expected Sen'ji to kill her right then and there, but to her surprise - he's been surprising her an awful lot - he remained quiet, choosing to open up and study the map instead. Yet he still looked at her time to time, and she knew he was making sure she stayed put and didn't try to free herself.

She swallowed. It was dawn.

_They'll be awake soon._

The beasts here were larger than normal; it would make them all the more harder to kill; should they run into one while figuring their way out. She'd be of little help in such a plight, and at present, she wasn't certain if said fool was capable of doing anything right.

Tenma tilted his head to side. He made his way towards her before settling down while Sen'ji Jr let out a soft screech. Both animals were curious on why they had stopped.

As the blue-skinned troll became increasingly preoccupied with his task, she - without warning - discerned just how vulnerable he was right now.

He _was _vulnerable anyway, with both his hands employed and his eyes locked on the roll of thin parchment paper.

It dawned upon her.

_I could run for it_, she blinked. _His back is facing away, and Tenma..._

_Should I do it? T_here was an equal chance of her both succeeding and failing. The edges of her lips tugged in a downward motion as she studied the ropes coiled tightly around her. She couldn't escape if these remained on her.

_My ankle... _Her frown deepened. _Maybe I could heal it? _It was a possible option. After _that_ shenanigan with Sen'ji, she felt more energetic.

Tenma gazed up at her, yellow eyes darkening as she gazed back.

It was then she knew that he knew what she had in mind.

_We really are partners, _she chuckled quietly. Though the cat seemed to have gotten attached to the raptor and more comfortable near the troll, Isera was cognisant he wouldn't hesitate in helping his owner accomplish her goals.

_A loyal companion, indeed._

At once a plan formed in her mind, swift and clear.

Resolve hit into her bloodstream, and the scheme was executed.

.


	5. Double Trouble

.

_This is insane._

Isera felt her heart start to thump with increased speed as she miraculously managed to grit words through her teeth; all without sounding shaky and conspicuous.

"Sen'ji?" At this, the troll snapped his head up from the map, amber gaze boring into hers. By the look of frustration plastered over his feral features, she guessed he wasn't too pleased at being disturbed; especially after she had just insulted and scolded him to no end.

She coughed, suddenly embarrassed at what she was about to say.

"I need to answer nature's call," she inwardly winced while voicing this. She had tried to make it sound less direct; just to save both of their faces. She didn't even need to go to the outhouse, anyway. She had barely drunk of a drop of anything - what was there to release?

It wasn't a saying night elves used, but it was a phrase frequently spoken in Common. She figured he would take the hint, seeing how he could speak the language of humans.

_Hmph, I still don't know how he managed to learn Common._

When he didn't reply as quickly as she had expected, she held back a groan of frustration herself.

_Don't tell me he doesn't know what it means! _The thought of having to say it word for word was enough to make her swoon.

"Ah," he blinked, his cheeks reddening. Isera wanted to let out a sigh of relief; she commended him for being a scholar. "Sen'ji can loosen da elf's bonds a bit," he muttered, looking increasingly flustered as he rolled back up the scroll. Stepping forward towards her direction, the huntress then realised just how ridiculous and awkward the situation was.

_Perhaps I should have thought of a better excuse._

Isera stared mutely at the ground as the troll expertly tugged on a loose end before fiddling with others.

As she felt her hands gifted with more freedom and mobility, she looked up and gave him a small smile of gratitude. Nothing escaped her notice at point blank - not even the two faint spots on red on his cheeks.

"How da elf gonna walk?" he questioned rather curtly after a pause.

"Tenma will help me," she replied reassuringly; she had known he would ask. She didn't fail to see a flash of suspicion in his eyes, though. Unexpectedly, he did not question further.

Maybe he thought that since both were partners for perhaps centuries, they would be able to help each other easily.

_Well, he is right to a certain extent._

When he hurriedly turned away, she inhaled deeply, and quietly healed her twisted ankle, all the while worried he would turn back. She felt light-headed as more of her strength were sapped by the chore.

_How am I going to do this? My strength is close to depletion._

Isera grimaced - she should have asked for food earlier. Most likely he hadn't given it to her since she never asked. He must have thought she wasn't hungry. Now she wasn't sure if she would be able to get far without the needed energy boost.

Determination filled her - her plan was going smoothly. She couldn't go back now.

She would just push herself to run.

Easy.

She turned, intentionally limping with the saber pressing against her towards a large clump of ferns several yards away. As she did so, she noticed from the corner of her eyes that a certain olive raptor trailing behind her; silent and cautious.

_Did Sen'ji send him to keep an eye on me?_

Isera shook her worries off - she could deal with him easily.

_Pounce, gag, and tie. _She smiled to herself. _That would work._

She only hoped the troll had not noticed Tenma missing as well.

Once she was sure they were far enough, she turned to a waiting Tenma and was about to give the signal when a rough nudge from behind distracted her.

She turned and was faced with Sen'ji Jr. gazing down upon her, muscular tail waving from side to side.

He still had their bags clipped on, she noticed.

_I could take back my bag, _she blinked, then sighed. _No, it'd take too much time; and time is one thing I'm short of._

Curious and agitated - she was racing against Nozdormu's hourglass - she looked at him. In reply, he huffed and bent down, nudging a thick stick towards her feet. Isera's eyes widened as she stared into violet orbs, incredulous and somewhat amused.

_He wants to play?_

"No, buddy," she shook her head, feeling anxiety creep in. She needed to get to the next stage of her plan, and really could do without an intruding raptor messing it all up. "Go back." Sen'ji Jr. let out another huff and nudged her shoulder, letting out a soft call that hit her to be pleading.

"No, stop it," she refused, but yet couldn't keep a smile from breaking out on her face.

_What an adorable, weird, monstrous-sized raptor, _she ruefully thought, tentatively reaching out to pat him. She'd miss him.

Relenting, she knelt and grabbed the large twig and flung it far from herself. Thank the Goddess for her arm strength.

_Once he runs off, I'd have bought more time. _Isera mentally praised herself for her ingenuity. Sen'ji Jr, captivated by the flying wooden instrument, dashed off in the direction of it. She pursed her lips - was he _that _attention-deprived by his owner?

She shook her head - she _knew_ the blue-skinned Horde was sadistic.

She focused back on the task on hand.

"Tenma!" she hissed, morphing into her native tongue. She usually spoke with the fur-coated beast in the language of her people.

The large cat let out a growl as it hastily started to bite, pierce and chew through her bonds with its fangs. Isera never felt as grateful she had trained him in overcoming traps as she did now.

Within five seconds, he was done. Isera leapt upwards, soaking in the feel of cool wind blowing over her no-longer-encased skin.

She knew she hadn't her belongings with her, and merely waved it off. It was of little importance at the moment. What mattered now was her getting away.

Besides, her pack didn't exactly contain anything of value - just her gold, silver and copper coins. She could easily earn it back by completing more objectives. Anyhow, she still had quite a saving in the bank.

_Remind me to abandon whatever quests in Un'Goro Crater._

"Let's go," she whispered in Darnassian, before dashing towards the direction of Tanaris. Her longtime friend gave another growl as he too shifted into a run, powerful muscles rippling beneath his smooth pelt.

_Unlike Porcupine back there, _she thought with the considerable amount of pride that only long-lived races possessed. _I know my way around._

As she avoided trees, both fallen and upright, she too had to avoid boulders, plants and any roaming mobs. It was an easy task for an elf; given their stamina, agility and flexibility.

She wasn't living up to it, though. Her running was despairingly slow, and her breathing rugged and uneven. Inevitably, she had to slow down to catch her breath.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting screech shattered the silence, and Isera knew it was Sen'ji Jr. letting out a cry of alarm.

She glanced back in alarm herself.

_That fast?_

Knowing Sen'ji would have most likely discovered her disappearance by now, Isera forced her screaming, stiff body to move once more. She knew Tenma was behind her; being able to hear his snarls. Several beasts turned to look at her as she ran past them, startled. Fortunately, none of them decided to give chase.

After two minutes of continuous sprinting - to her, it was more of jogging - she slowed down and bent over her knees, panting heavily. Her stomach hurt and she felt her muscles unable to relax. She bared her teeth in distaste.

_All due to my lack of exercise._

_That's the quickest I've ever run_, she added flatly. _I bet I've broken Azeroth's record on athletics._

Looking up, half breathless, she was greatly awarded by the sight of seemingly never-ending sand mere yards away. She thanked her eyesight - night elves could see further than the other races - for telling her she wasn't far from freedom...not that she wasn't free the moment those confounded ropes fell apart.

Straightening while ignoring her protesting tissues, she had just started moving again when she distinctly heard movement from further back.

The rustling of grass...

The slight vibration of something heavy coming towards them...

A litany in an unfamiliar language.

"Stupid elf!" a male voice hissed, flinging himself on top of her. The sudden weight on her back made Isera gasp and fall forward.

The dizziness and cold sweating she had been experiencing, combined with the sudden shock, was too much for the navy-haired female.

Her vision grew fuzzy and small black dots appeared before her conscious blackened.

.

...

.

She awoke to a gust of wind hitting her straight on; grains of some unknown solid tickled her skin. She snapped her eyes open, and looked about, her mind in disarray.

Sand. Sand everywhere.

It resembled a vast desert with nothing but the beige-brown substance being its only inhabitant. Isera wearily looked up, the sky was bright, and several beasts - she then realised they were carrion birds - flew high above their location towards the north.

It then hit her.

_Tanaris? _Isera narrowed her eyes. How exactly had she gotten here? _Did I sleep-run, or did something of that sort?_

Yet she felt relieved to be away from Un'Goro Crater.

_Un'Goro? _she tried in vain to remember why that name seemed to strike a chord in her.

Her thoughts in turmoil, she continued in the idle task of taking in her surroundings. She somehow didn't study where she herself was, but rather, studied what was around and beyond. Isera's nose twitched as she caught the smell of decaying flesh traversing on the wings of air.

She turned her head to the west, and from far caught sight of large skeletons burrowed half-deep in the sand. Fire Rocs flew between the bones, picking out whatever flesh was left. Nearby, Another group swooped their beaks in and out of a still basilisk.

She held back her disgust before her attention was caught by faint movement to her left.

Isera looked in the direction of the motion to come eye-to-eye with a pair of amber eyes.

Her own ones widened as memories rushed back into her, clearing her muddled mind.

"Yer be awake again, eh?" Sen'ji's harsh tone snapped her back into reality after a few moments. She had been wallowing in self-pity after recollecting her failure to escape, as well as the contributing factors to her captivity.

Suddenly feeling irritated, she lifted her chin and returned defiantly,

"Yes, I am." Aggravated by his unwanted presence, she forced herself into a sitting position and turned away, preferring to stare at the violated carcass. Whatever friendliness she had felt towards him was close to dissipating.

She felt parched, hungry, as well as exhausted to the brink of falling asleep. Yet, she suspected after what she had done, he probably wouldn't give her any form of sustenance; no matter how much she needed it. Her head was swooning, and her body ached. She had strained herself beyond limits.

_What was I thinking? _This she thought bitterly, hunching her shoulders as she drew her feet towards her chest. _Escaping while half-dead? I should have known it wouldn't be successful from the start._

She now knew she had fallen unconscious for the second time, and that Sen'ji was most likely the one whom had brought her here. She sighed, feeling resentment towards her enemy-and-somewhat-saviour.

Fainting was a form of weakness. Isera glared at the mat she sat upon.

"Why can't you just let me go?" she suddenly said, void of any emotion. She was too tired to even pour her feelings out. She just wanted to receive answers for her questions. "You would have lost nothing if I had escaped, and I would have lost little. It was clearly a beneficial situation for us both." She frowned at how hoarse she sounded.

If she had expected a reply, she received none.

Annoyed even more, she looked down at her limbs. Her legs were bound together again, and tighter than the previous bonds; her hands were free, though, leaving her confused.

Blinking, she looked down to where a large ball of dark fur laid by her side. Tenma was asleep, and bound as well. Apparently Sen'ji wasn't going to take any more chances.

Without warning, she felt wearier than the past few minutes of her being awake.

Her stomach growled softly. She winced.

A familiar hand appeared in her face. In its fingers bore a bone-carved bowl filled with what seemed to be stew.

Isera vaguely wondered how he gotten a bowl, but did not ask about it. She didn't exactly care, and it was of little importance.

Taken aback, she turned her head to face the impassive Sen'ji.

_He's giving me food?_

"Take it," he growled. Stunned into silence, she took it into her own shaking hands. She then understood why her hands were not tied.

"Thanks," she murmured, slightly abashed. She had not noticed he had been preparing food. Then again, in her current state, she was lucky to even be aware of anything. She received no reply, and the troll went back to his own tasks.

Too exhausted to ask how he had gotten the ingredients to prepare a meal - she didn't exactly care, either - she took a small sip of the steaming soup. She knew of troll tribes that were cannibalistic, but Darkspear trolls had forsook such practices when Thrall stepped up as Warchief of the Horde.

Pleasantly staggered at how it tasted, she then worried if Tenma had eaten. Previously in the cave, she had assumed he hunted for himself, seeing he left the area at regular intervals. Now that he was tied up...

_I'll just leave half for him._

Sen'ji shot her a curious look when he noticed half of the soup remained in the bowl, but still he said nothing.

"Thanks," she said again, this time looking at him straight. She felt much more energised; no doubt the results of her recent intake. It felt good to finally have something in her abdomen.

"Why da elf try ta escape?" he asked, raising one brow at her.

Isera stared at him, gaping.

_Does he not know?_

"You're a Horde, I'm an Alliance," she pointed out almost sharply. "Obviously, it would be logical to escape if your mortal enemy holds you captive." He snorted.

"Sen'ji didn't hurt da little elf," he retorted.

"That's no excuse!" she exclaimed, not expecting such a reply. "No matter how kind you treat me, you're still part of them."

_Is he even part of the Horde? _After years of facing with members of the opposing faction, he was the first to not want her head.

She shook her head, incredulous. "If you're not going to hurt me, or turn me in," she stated slowly. "Then _why_ exactly are you holding me captive?" Inflicting torture upon her was the only reason she could think for her circumstance.

_By Elune, am I meant to be some sort of trophy to be displayed?_

At her expression, Sen'ji let out a laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ma friend has interest in yer kind," he coolly replied.

"The one in Gadgetzan?"

"Aye, mon."

"Ah... what kind of interest, exactly?" she nervously asked, secretly praying his friend wasn't an undead warlock or something along those lines.

"She be likin' experiments."

"_Wh_—_What?_" she gasped, colour draining from her face. A wicked grin spread across her captor's handsome features.

"Ya, mon," he snickered, clearly enjoying the rapid change of expressions. Isera stared at him, lost for words.

"Is she... fierce?" she hesitantly asked.

"Dat be right, elf. She be fierce ta membas of da Alliance," he nodded. "She don't like dem too much."

_By the love of Elune! _she exclaimed mentally. _I'm caught up with not just one sadist, but two!_

Struggling to keep herself in check, she continued, "Describe her to me." She lifted her head up, placing on a bravado. Sen'ji gave an odd look at her queer request, but then grinned. He twirled a carving knife in his hands.

"Oh, she be big and tall, vereh fierce in battle," his grin got bigger. "Wild mane, sharp teed dat can pierce drough bones, hooves dat she usin' ta trample on puny little elves like ya," he carelessly gestured towards her. "After she be done wif dem, she take trophies bak home wif 'er."

"A... a tauren? Is that it?" she confirmed nervously, a image of a roaring female gladiator cow stuck in her head.

"Dat be right," he smirked. "Dat be why Sen'ji not hurtin' ya. Me friend don't like damaged pointy-eared elves; she like dem in good condition."

_Yikes._

"Da elf be quite smart," Sen'ji threw back his head, laughing louder. Sen'ji Jr. lifted his massive head, startled from slumber. The saddle no longer remained on its back - it was placed at the side, with their bags attached. Tenma remained in a doze.

Looking at her, the reptile let out an excited shriek, but remained in place.

_I don't think he knows what occurred, _she realised, bemused. _Maybe he thought it to be another sort of game._

_I can't let him know just how I'm feeling, _she sniffed before shrugging.

"Okay then." Sen'ji raised another eyebrow at that supposedly calm statement, but said nothing. He merely grinned.

_He's awfully fond of grinning now, _she darkly noted, wishing she could pluck his teeth out with a pick.

_Which reminds me..._

"What did you do to my weapons, anyway?" she glared at him. "I have not seen them since our encounter."

"Sen'ji threw dem away," he replied, not looking affected by her threatening tone. He returned the favour with a glare of his own. "De elf best not be thinkin' of escapin' again," he warned. "Da elf won't succeed."

"Clearly," she muttered, shifting uncomfortably beneath the attention. "You only managed to caught up with me since I was deprived of vigour," she grumbled, spirits deterred.

_Hmph, I'm not a fool to try again. Does he think me that dense?_

It was hard to admit, but she knew it was hopeless trying to vamoose for a second time.

_What am I suppose to use to knock him out anyway? The bowl? _Hmm... now that she thought about it...

Looking pleased at her response, Sen'ji began to clear the equipment he had used to prepare the food. She took note of his tusks - they had a new coat of war paint.

"It be high noon now," he told her at the same time. "Da elf be out fer another four hours." There was a hint of amusement in his words.

"You don't have to tell me that," she countered flatly, yet was unable to halt the process of a blush. Shaking herself, she looked back at him.

"Don't you hate me for what I've done?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. She needed to get this _one_ bugging question out of her system. The troll paused in his actions, and then heaved his shoulders. "I mean, shouldn't you be furious and in a rage?"

"Maybe at first," he admitted. "But I can't blame ya fer it." He shrugged. "Ol' Sen'ji would have done da same."

"_You're _the quirky one," she grumbled, making a reference to an earlier conversation. "I hurt Sen'ji Jr, and you go into a rampage. I do something else than that, and you're eerily fine with it."

"Are you even troll?"

Her trollish companion let out a snort.

For some strange reason, she felt relieved by his words. Why exactly, she did not know. Still, she didn't think too much into it.

"I'm not _that _heartless, either," she snappily added. Sen'ji glanced up, countenance floored. "I felt a bit bad for escaping, you know," she spoke, _sotto voce_.

To her amazement, Sen'ji chuckled. "Da elf has compassion!" he clicked his tongue. The ranger rolled her eyes at him in response.

Isera couldn't believe how at ease she was feeling; given the fact this certain Horde was the very reason she was stuck in this mess. It could possibly be due to the events they had experienced together, or she just wasn't as loyal to the Alliance as she'd thought.

Her attention was again seized when she felt rope coiling around her hands. She looked at Sen'ji, disapproving but made no attempts to struggle. He gave her an - almost - apologetic guise.

_There's no point, anyway, _she sighed. He was stronger - that she no longer had a doubt of; taking count of many times he had already 'won' - and could thus easily suppress her.

In spite of her 'relaxed' state of mind, she still felt apprehension nagging at the back of her cranium.

_I'm pretty sure Sen'ji wouldn't hurt me; since if he did, he would have done so earlier... but can I say the same for his friend?_

.


	6. Delayed Departure

.

For some miraculous reason, Isera no longer felt sleepy.

Either it was the life-saving soup she had drank, or there were just too many worries in her head keeping her awake.

She scowled, feeling restless. She shifted in her seat and stared at Sen'ji, who seemed to be oblivious to her distress. He appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, and had been silent for quite some time now. Isera snorted softly.

_Apparently he's forgotten Golden Rule Number One - never let your guard down in the presence of an enemy._

It had been a few minutes since their last conversation, and Tenma had awoken shortly after. The large cat now lay by her right, head resting on her lap. He seemed as bored as she was; and just as uncomfortable. The bonds were no doubt proving to be obstructing to the both of them.

Though Isera wondered why they weren't moving forward to Gadgetzan, she didn't take up the mantle to ask.

_The longer we take to get there, the better. _She resisted shuddering as her thoughts - not more than once, now - shifted towards the tauren Sen'ji had alluded to. She uneasily pictured how their first meeting would go.

Would the horned woman attempt to crush her there and then? Or would she save the torturing for later; after Isera had put down her guard? The huntress knew how many loved using the 'element of surprise' to their advantage. She made it a mental note to never do so; as in, let down her guard, of course.

_Perhaps she would knock me unconscious, and I would wake in an unknown cavern filled with weapons and whips. _She shivered, picturing it all. _I would likely meet my demise there._

Nonetheless, Isera found it uncanny that a _tauren _\- rather than many other, _more_ ruthless races - would be violent.

_I have always thought them to be compassionate and selfless, _she thought of the shamans and fellow druids of their kind, her brows furrowing together to form a small 'v'. She then waved it begone - just because many others stereotyped the Tauren, it didn't mean they would be what they were classified as.

_Bah! _Annoyance rose up in her. _I should not be feeling afraid! I am part of the Kal'dorei; I have lived longer than any of them, and I've certainly faced more tedious problems than this!_

Isera shook her head - she was acting like the short-lived races.

"Wat da elf be shakin' 'er head at?" Sen'ji's amused tone drifted in, and she looked up to see him smirking.

"Nothing that would concern you," she sweetly replied. Of course, it wasn't exactly true; but he didn't need to know that.

"We be makin' off fer Gadgetzan temarow," he told her. She was curious by his strange expression as he said it. Shrugging, she gazed upwards to the sky where several Fire Rocs flew by. Thankfully, the sun wasn't shining too brightly.

_At least they are free. _She flexed her fingers.

"Why not today?" she enquired, but hoping he wouldn't change his mind. Sen'ji blinked, and leaned forward to pat a snoring raptor. The bundle of energy had too been worn out.

"Sen'ji ain't wantin' da elf faintin' while goin' dere," he explained, eyes gleaming. Isera growled.

"I'm fine," she shot back, feeling self conscious. He was quoting her to be weak. "On a daily basis, I am none of those things," she narrowed her silver orbs at him. Sen'ji wasn't intimidated though, he merely shrugged in reply.

"It be takin' a day's rest fer da elf ta regain full strength," he remarked. "Da recent events 've worn ya out," he added, giving her a knowing look. She groaned inwardly, reluctantly accepting the fact that he was right. She _did_ feel more energised, but not lively enough to go long distances.

_How flattering to know he cares for my health._

"Gadgetzan be a long way from 'ere, and I wanna be dere soon," he continued, looking away.

A light bulb lighting up in her head, Isera grinned.

"Oh? Eager to see your tauren friend, aren't you?" She didn't know why she said that, but she really could use with a lighter topic; especially after all that had transpired.

At this, Sen'ji's head shot up, and his expression resembled that of a deer being caught in headlights.

Either her ideas were correct, or he was just _that _taken aback.

"Nay," he hurriedly spelled off her unspoken claim. "Gadgetzan dere be merchants, and I need ta get some dings. Me be runnin' low on supplies." Isera raised an angular brow.

"I see," she replied coolly. "How did you manage to pick up Common?"

His look at the sudden change in topic made her sniff.

"Since you're keeping me here against my will, it's only fair you answer whatever questions I give you against _your _will," she reasoned. Unable to counter such words, Sen'ji heaved a sigh.

"Dere are troll tribes dat 've forgotten Zandali," he gave in to her cold glare. "When we communicate, dey be speakin' in Common."

_Ah, I remember that piece of knowledge. _She wasn't bothered by his irked - he had expected her to know - demeanor, though - she was a hunter, not a scholar. He couldn't expect her to remember things she had read centuries ago.

"You seem pretty fluent in it," she said, interest roused. "Why is that so?"

"Sen'ji pick it up drough 'is journeys and relatives," the blue-skinned male grumbled, standing up. "Da elf should be restin' now. Sen'ji will wake ya up."

_No doubt about it._

She really hoped she wouldn't have to feel his feet when she awoke.

.

...

.

Isera opened her eyes to be greeted by the sound of crickets chirping, faraway birds screeching, and plain tranquillity.

It was night.

Nocturnal nature kicking in, she struggled to set herself straight - confounded ropes - when Sen'ji stepped in to assist her.

_For the love of Elune, doesn't he need rest? _she thought, startled, as she was placed upright.

"You're still awake?" she uneasily asked, her night vision acting up.

She looked about her.

The once lightened sky was now a deep, midnight blue, with several stars shining brightly in the darkness. A crescent moon shone in the distance, and Elune reverently came into her thoughts.

_Tanaris definitely looks better at sunset than sunrise._

The troll sat in front of her, and grinned.

"Who else is gonna keep watch?"

_Ah, that explains it. _Not to mention, it was pretty clear he was staying awake to prevent any assassination attempts.

_Hmph, does he think me that wicked? _She didn't hesitate to deny the fact she _had _done so in previous missions. She couldn't help it though - it was for her safety, and was pretty much necessary.

"I see." A sudden gust of wind made her shiver involuntarily.

Isera was about to ask for her cloak when it was abruptly tossed towards her. She looked up in surprise.

"Thanks," she hesitantly said, baffled. The dark figure across nodded in acknowledgement, and placed her pack aside. He was somehow exceptionally quick at sensing her wants.

"Trolls be raised in jungles and forests, too, ya know," he chuckled softly, answering her unspoken question. Her eyes widened, and she flushed.

_Elune be praised if he doesn't catch sight of that..._

"I didn't expect trolls' eyesight to be sharp during twilight," she defended herself. Yet now that she thought deeper into it - there _had _been rumours for decades that trolls were distantly related to the elves. Perhaps they were indeed truth, and not myths?

Sen'ji chuckled again.

"Don't you feel tired, or something?" she squinted at him. He _did _seem a little drained. Seeing her unusually-kind captor's jolted mien, she scowled. "Not that I care for your well-being...I'd kill you without a second's pause," she added helpfully for good effect.

She would never admit to herself that frankly, she wouldn't be able to bring herself to harm him _too _seriously. Perhaps it was his personality and treatment of her that influenced her decision. After all, he _really_ wasn't like the other trolls she had come across.

"Ya, mon," Sen'ji laughed. His laughter always sounded soothing, and peculiarly musical to the ears. "Da elf quite heavy to carry," he snickered good-humouredly.

Isera felt her cheeks redden.

Not due to the weight-reference, but the thought of him carrying her around.

_How did I not wake up from that?_

"Anyhow," she irritably snapped. "I can't use my cloak tied up. Loosen the ropes so that I can wear it; I'm not going to escape, for your information," she said in exasperation at his unwilling aspect.

_Even if I did try, I have nothing to chase him off, _she recalled bitterly, feeling slight resentment for the troll. The option of taking _his _weapons was out of the question. _He'll probably chase me all the way to Gadgetzan._

Before she knew it, the familiar feel of soft, smooth cloth came into contact with whatever skin was bared.

"I am no child," she hissed.

"Dat be right, but da elf be unable to help 'erself," Sen'ji replied smugly.

Isera glared at him through the shrouds of black, but snuggled into the material. She had forgotten how cold the desert could become, even with a full set of armour donned on.

"A little fire..." the rest of Sen'ji's words trailed off as he got up, seemingly looking for some object.

"Don't be silly," she piqued, watching him. "Setting up a campfire is sure to attract pests."

"Do you know _anything _about survival?" she added, peeved.

_Mortals... it appears they hold little regard for their lives._

"I do," he turned to eye her. "But we usually kill dose dat come," he continued carelessly, but stopped in his quest. Possibly, he didn't want to have to deal with aggressive creatures while having a load that was unable to fight for herself.

_Trolls..._

The sound of skittering in the distance caught both of their attention. It was easy to pick up even the most distinct reverberation in a place so silent and tranquil.

"Scorpions," she heard Sen'ji mutter beneath his breath. She looked up at him as he hastily approached.

"Look 'ere, elf," he growled, yanking her up - the cloak falling off in the process - and stared at her. "I be cuttin' dem rope so ya can defend yerself; dere be more dan two scorpions." His stare hardened, amber globes almost glowing as he pulled out a dagger from his waist. "Try to run, and yer be expectin' ma axe in yer head," he snarled, releasing her.

Isera stepped backwards and rubbed her sore wrists. As Sen'ji went to wake his raptor, she did the same by crouching and gently shaking Tenma. It amazed her to no end how those two could sleep for hours without making a peep once.

As the beasts stirred, she glanced at him.

"What do you expect me to use to defend myself?"

"'ere," he threw her a bow, dagger, and quiver filled with arrows. She scanned it - no doubt elvish.

"So, you lied," she said simply. Sen'ji nodded, giving her an - almost - rueful smile. At that exact moment, it disappeared and the troll rushed forward. Isera turned around and saw him charging towards three large shapes.

She curled her lips in disgust upon taking in the sight of the overgrown insects.

"Tenma," she warned in her native tongue. It was all it needed to take to send the message. The cat, now wide awake, purred before heeding her words. She had cut his own binds earlier.

A scorpion dashed for her, screeching and clamping its claws. She leaped back and fired an arrow at its many legs. As it leaned to one side, she pulled out her dagger and slashed at its monstrous head, cursing. It let out a sound filled with pain, and fury.

Bleeding green, it crawled to her, persistent in its goal. Isera smiled to herself as she jumped to the side, avoiding its clamps while narrowly missing its long, arched tail. She could vaguely see glimmering venom dripping from it.

"Watch out for the tail," she called to Sen'ji, who let out a grunt in response. He was wrestling and hacking with his axe at the same time. How he managed to avoid being stung...it was beyond her.

Turning back, she swiped the other side of the scorpion. Limbless, it remained on the sand, hissing and spitting. Isera crushed its head with her heel. Mushed insect goo splattered out onto the ground. Isera grinned triumphantly - how she missed the hunt - and then eyed the camp.

Another one lay dead, killed by Sen'ji Jr and Tenma combined.

Out of the blue, three more appeared.

Shouting over to Sen'ji to warn him, she then spun back to face a charging, disgusting _critter_.

She was taken by surprise when it _leapt _for her throat. Dodging its attack, she fell beneath the weight. Grimacing upon seeing the scorpion up close, she used her legs to kick it off. Screeching, it flew back several metres before rushing back to her, agitated.

She aimed for between its eyes, and shot. Blood splattered, and blinded, it skittered about mindlessly, snapping and spitting venom while swinging its rampant tail. She watched it for a few seconds, before deciding to put it out of its misery. Tenma was already eyeing it hungrily.

As she decapitated the creature, she took notice of one fresh carcass at the side. Sen'ji Jr towered over it, letting out a victorious roar.

A shout caught her attention, and she spotted a certain blue-skinned tusked freak lying on the sand, clutching his left thigh as he groaned in pain.

_He must have been stung_, she realised, running over to him, at the same time kicking the hissing opponent in the face. It had nearly ripped his face off with its powerful pincers.

As she left Tenma and the raptor to finish it off, she knelt by Sen'ji.

"Hey, what happened?" she anxiously asked, turning him over. He winced.

"Dam... scorpion..." he spat furiously.

"Were you stung?" she asked. "No, never-mind, I'll check for myself."

As she forced his hand off, she nearly reared back at the sigh of pus and blood oozing out of a deep wound on his thigh. The jagged end of the tail of mass destruction had cut through his heavily-fortified armour. A familiar glimmering liquid could be seen around it.

"Sen'ji, you've been stung pretty bad," she whispered. "I thought I told you to avoid the tail!"

"I did!" he hissed in reply before letting out another groan. "Another one got me from da bak before yer cat killed it," he breathed, clutching at his leg again.

"No, don't!" she exclaimed. "Don't touch it," she warned. "It'll increase the risk of infection."

"Infection?" he repeated, disbelief on his contorted features. "Ma leg _already_ be infected by dat stupid insect!"

She pursed her lips, studying the wound. She was able to do so by magically illuminating her palm; she used it as a light.

"This type of venom spreads fast, and its effects occur just as quick," she muttered. "It won't kill you, but it'll cause a lot of pain."

"Wat are ya doin'?" Sen'ji said in alarm as she started to drag him away from the camp.

"I'm not going to kill you, so shut up or I just may," she threatened brusquely. "We need to find somewhere else to rest the night. The bodies will no doubt attract more," she explained. "We won't have to go far; scorpions are morons, and they're short-sighted."

"Da elf not gonna kill Sen'ji?" he asked, flabbergasted, all agony forgotten. She didn't reply, and continued to drag him further from the base. Sen'ji Jr and Tenma were right by them, tailing along.

After a few minutes, and their former camp resembled a grain of sand far off, she loosened her grip, slowly lowering both legs to the surface.

"I'm only helping you because you didn't leave _me _to die when I fell unconscious," she pointed out plainly and then gave him a soft smile. "I'd probably leave once I've fixed you up." She raised a hand at his protest. "Be silent. I don't want you talking, it'll just worsen your condition. Lay still while I go get our things. Here." She placed her own dagger into his fingers.

"Anything threatening appears, throw this at it. You're a troll, I trust you'll not miss." Signalling for his raptor to stay, she called Tenma to her side. Shrugging on her quiver and clasping her bow, she left.

As she headed back, she glimpsed over her shoulder. Sen'ji was still looking at her, an unreadable expression on his profile and in his eyes. His mount chirped, settling himself down and nudging his head playfully.

_Looks like we'll be stuck here for a while longer._

.


	7. Babysitting Power

.

She watched his chest rise and fall steadily; a slow, repetitive rhythm as she hugged her knees to her chest, holding back a shiver from the cold. Black-blue hair caressed by the wind, her bloody markings accentuated by the moonlight, and silver, almond-shaped eyes glowed brightly as the night elf kept vigil.

Isera eyed her patient as he slept, albeit fidgety. When she had returned carrying their belongings, she soon realised the troll had caught a fever.

Using a thick strip of cloth - she mainly used it as a gag for certain missions - she had dampened it with water from his flask before gently laying it across the being's forehead. The cooled atmosphere in Tanaris made it work.

Soon after thanking her, he fell into slumber before she could do anything else. Isera was surprised he could sleep through the painful effects of the venom. She then used his and her blanket to cover him; he needed warmth, after all.

So, two hours later, and just hitting midnight, she remained awake in her cloak, watching over him and their dozing companions. It would be folly for her to sleep as well; who knew what creatures of the night would sneak in as they laid vulnerable?

_Not to mention, I am part of the Night Elves - Children of the Stars and Watchers of the Moon._

Isera did not want to treat his wound - she had cleansed it with water, though - till he awoken. The certain itch and sting that was inevitable while the healing process was bound to disturb his rest. He needed it badly, as she could tell from the eye-bags.

If anything, he rested less than her.

She then realised that during all the times she slept, he had not, and had instead kept watch as she now did.

_Damn_, she thought, _if only I could help ease it some way._

Though she knew healing spells to lessen the pain of the sting, she was lacking the energy to do so. She had only drunk half a bowl of soup, and was again feeling weary and famished. Isera had taken a few sips of water from Sen'ji's own flask earlier on, but soon felt thirsty once more. She did not want to use up all water too quickly - there were other needs for it.

_Fool_, she said mentally. _How slow and unprepared he must be to get stung by a mere pest._

Shaking her head, she huddled closer to Tenma, and silently gazed at the stars.

.

...

.

Isera woke up moments before dawn. She blinked in surprise.

_I must have fallen asleep_, she frowned, leaping up and scanning the new camp for any signs of anything out of place. To her relief, everything seemed to be the same as she had left it when sleep overtook her. Yet she still berated herself for allowing rest.

With the sun rising, it was much less cold, and she took the brief opportunity to admire the orange-red sky and cloaked sand. She sat herself down, facing away, to enjoy it better.

"Enjoyin' de view, aren't'cha?" Sen'ji's teasing voice spoke after several minutes. The feel of her blanket landed on her lap.

"Ah," she replied in bewilderment, turning to see his frame sitting upright. The edges of her lips tugged downwards. "Are you alright?" she questioned, already heading towards him.

At this, he let out a snort, looking insulted. "Sen'ji be fine, mon," he muttered. "Da scorpion's venom be nothin'. Sen'ji be a troll; we trolls suffer drough much worse." Isera did not reply, and merely studied him doubtfully.

_At least, his words does seem to hold some truth in them._

Hard to believe, but he actually seemed to be doing much better than before. Though still sickly-pale, it wasn't as bad as previously, but still, he had a fever.

"Seems like sleep is the new medicine," she finally said, feeling a surge of relief. At his second snort, she chuckled. "Nonetheless, you're still sick, and I don't know what else the poison might do to a body.

"It might have different effects on different races, for all we know," she continued. "It doesn't seem to paralyse you like it would with my race, which is a good sign, but since it usually causes excruciating pain afterwards - and you have already passed that stage... There may be other side-effects that may occur that may be unexpected, so we'll just have to keep both eyes open. Just to be safe."

At the end of her little speech, she held back her laughter at Sen'ji's lost expression.

"I dought da elf said de effects would act fast," he shrugged after a while, apparently catching up. "It be quite a while, now. Da effects should 've worn off by now." Isera nodded.

"Yes, but 'fast' doesn't mean in the matter of minutes or seconds. It can be hours, or even days," she explained. "Thus speaking, best not to take any chances."

"I wonder if your fever is another effect of the sting..." she thoughtfully added. "I'll have to note it down," she decided, scrambling up to her pack.

As she scribbled onto the parchment, Sen'ji stared at her, disbelief plastered all over him.

"Is da elf really writin' down all dat?" he stumbled over his words, looking gobsmacked. Isera paused in her chore, and looked up.

_Does he have no knowledge of the other classes?_

"Well, yes," she replied wearily. "I'm a huntress; it is important to take note of all things related to the wilds." She sighed. "Does your wound still hurt? Or anywhere else, for a fact?"

"Nay," he said. "Sen'ji be strong enough to handle it." Isera gave him a dubious look.

_He's definitely in denial._

"I bet it still hurts, doesn't it?"

"Just a bit," he admitted. "It be fine, mon."

_Ah-ha._

"I'll do something about it later," she said decisively, dumping the roll of paper back into her bag. "I'll go get us some food."

"Sen'ji can feed 'imself," he immediately protested. She raised an eyebrow and stood over him, eyes narrowing.

"Oh? Accounting for the fact that you're still sick, in pain, and the wound on your thigh is infected? I don't think so," she smirked. "The poison may have worn off by now, but it doesn't matter.

"It's your turn to rest for a long while, troll, while somebody else doesn't mind taking care of you.

"You'd better savour it, Hunchback."

Without waiting for a reply, she headed for a nearby group of hyenas; slender fingers curled around her bow.

.

...

.

"Sen'ji ain't be no 'hunchbak'," was the first thing Isera picked up when she returned.

Sen'ji glared up at her in greeting.

She merely ignored him and dumped the carcass of a red-pelted hyena in the centre. It was an easy task. At the sight of her arrows, majority of the pack had scattered off, yelping and barking; except for one.

In the end, it had taken an arrow to the knee before being slit at the throat.

"I'll get a fire going; you keep both eyes open for anything," she announced. "Even if you're partially disabled, you still have eyes to keep watch over the camp." She grinned when her hearing picked up a soft mutter of 'bossy elf' coming from a certain someone.

It was good being in control of things again; after such a long time - compare two days of disorder to several thousand years of cosmos - of being unable to take matters into her own hands, Isera was getting restless.

She then left him once more to collect materials for the flames.

.

...

.

"Da elf not gonna eat?"

"I picked these up while gathering those," she jerked her head towards the pebbles, twigs, and leaves.

"Berries? In _Tanaris_?"

"I have my ways," she scoffed.

_There is no way I'm ever going to admit I paid a passing mage to conjure these up._

Once upon another time, while she was still held captive, she would have implored him for help. Yet she wasn't, and thus had no need to go screaming for assistance. Isera was free now, and was merely staying to help a certain ill troll.

At least, that's what she's told herself.

Sen'ji's lips curled back as he looked at the handful of large berries she enclosed in her hands. He stabbed a finger at it.

"How is dat gonna keep yer full?" he questioned, comparing the difference of the cooked meat in front of him, and the pathetic chunk of round balls in front of her. Isera rolled her eyes in response, before popping one juicy berry into her mouth.

"I don't eat that much," she said, savouring the sweet taste as it burst onto her tongue, flavour splashing. "When you're a ranger, you're always on the move. We don't have time to have a picnic in the face of onslaught."

Sen'ji sniffed, and kept quiet.

_At least he knows night elves never touch meat if given the option._

"Alright," Isera stood up after her small meal, her stomach satisfied. "Are you done?" At his answering in the affirmative, she rubbed her palms together.

"Good, now we have to do something about that infected injury of yours." Now that she had refilled a portion of her energy, she was rather excited to cast magic. Not only did she like witnessing the results, it too was good practice for herself.

_Not that I see him as a training dummy._

Unexpectedly, Sen'ji raised both hands in objection. The elf looked at him, curious.

"Da elf ain't gonna cast 'er voodoo on me," he growled. Isera sniffed - the irony was much too strong to be ignored.

"I thought your kind _did_ voodoo."

"Dat be before we joined da Horde," the tusked male grunted. "We Darkspear trolls don't do it anymore." He lifted his chin, glaring defiantly at her.

_Ouch._

"For the love of the Moon Goddess," she exhaled deeply. "It's not dark magic." She gave him a stony look. "Now, are you going to let me ease your suffering, or do you want to possibly remain crippled and a handicap for the rest of your mortal life? It _is _infected, so you know."

Silence ensued.

"Fine," Sen'ji - at last - relented reluctantly, his pride evidently bruised. Isera then unwrapped another string of cloth from her backpack. She then used his water flask to wet it, before applying it to the wound. Hardened blood, pus, and toxin could clearly be seen around and in it.

Wrinkling her nose, she wiped the open puncture before placing both palms above it. Telling him to remain calm and quiet, she murmured a spell and watched with satisfaction as the split flesh began to mend itself.

"There," she murmured, leaning back and resting on her heels. Sen'ji muttered a sheepish thanks in favour of her services. She waved a hand in reply.

"Do you still feel any pain?" she asked. The troll shook his head.

"Nah, mon, I just feel a bit tired."

"You'd better rest," she advised, taking the thick roll of cloth from where he had slept earlier. As she used his flask to wet it, she knit her brows together.

_We're running low on water supply. _Isera didn't know whether to feel pleased or amused at the size of Sen'ji's water-carrier.

"We're going to have to find water soon," she said to him as he laid down.

_He's actually being cooperative... for once. S_he clicked her tongue.

"Ya, mon," he stifled a yawn. "Da elf can do it once Ol' Sen'ji's asleep."

A prickle of annoyance and astonishment shook through her build.

_Damn troll._

"Taking people's kindness for granted, are you?" she glowered at his back.

Unscrewing the flask, she dumped the remaining contents over his head.

"By Loa's mercy!" he sweared, jumping up and collapsing back down as water tricked down his body. He scowled at her, fingers twitching in anger. "Is dis be how ya treat someone who's sick?" he demanded furiously.

Isera looked at him, suppressing a smile.

"I'll get right to it," she waved the empty flask at him, turned and swooped down, grabbing her own, before leaving. Tenma let out a hiss and bounced after her, purring loudly and rubbing his head against her legs, seemingly approving of her recent deed.

Sen'ji Jr chattered and screeched, before digging into the leftover remains of the hyena.

Hard to admit, she was growing rather fond of the warrior.

.


	8. Forced Relevations

.

As Isera trudged along the sand, she scowled. Glaring up at the glaring sun, she quickened her pace. Tanaris was not only wide and deserted, the climate was also too warm for her tastes.

She nearly wished for it to be nightfall; when the temperature was cooler. The gusts of wind did not help much, in her case.

She had set out on the task to find water, and soon regretted it less than an hour later. Several foolish creatures had com e bouncing their way towards her, eager to harm, and she felt annoyed at the increasing amount of sand getting into her boots as she walked.

In addition, the whole place was a _desert_. Isera had nearly contemplated _buying _water from local settlements when a patch of green caught her attention in the distance.

Once she had confirmed it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her, and that she was actually seeing a very-much real oasis, she pretty much skipped there in glee.

Reaching the camp, she spotted Sen'ji sitting with his back to her, looking off towards the bare lands. At the sound of her approaching steps, he turned and she tossed his now-filled flask towards him. He caught it gratefully, but a surprised expression then overtook him.

Isera looked at him curiously as she took a seat. Tenma huffed and laid down, clearly glad to be able to rest. He growled in slight impatience when Sen'ji Jr began prodding his side.

"What is it?"

"Da elf came bak?" Sen'ji said incredulously. She frowned at his tone and statement.

_What kind of question is that?_

"Why wouldn't I come back?" she shrugged, taking a gulp of water. Thankfully, the water at the heavenly oasis had not been contaminated by sand and other impurities. The troll looked at her, clearly at unease.

"Da elf took 'er bag and bow," he pointed out. "Ya could 've easily left." At this she shook her head, amused.

Silver bore into amber, and she smirked.

"Unlike _some_," she replied. "I don't leave people to die when they're injured." At Sen'ji's embarrassed and insulted look, her grin widened.

"Here," she passed him a large rectangular item wrapped in clean cloth from her pack. "It's basilisk meat. I wasn't sure if you and Sen'ji Jr had eaten while I was gone. Do with it as you will."

"Did'cha eat?" he enquired, taking it as the raptor scooted over to his side, sniffing the chunk.

"Yes, both Tenma and I," Isera nodded and leaned back into the cat's fur. "Hopefully I hadn't taken too long?" she looked up - it was now dusk.

"Nah, mon," Sen'ji said flatly. "Da elf took only five hours." She did not fail to notice the streak of sarcasm. She merely nodded again, and both lapsed into silence. She took another mouthful of drink, gave some to Tenma, and then silently watched him prepare a fire.

_I'd have to make it a point to put it out before it gets too dark. _She felt her lips curl at the thought of more scorpions coming to assault them.

Moments passed, and as she absentmindedly stroked her companion's head as he dozed, she was startled at the sudden question.

"Did da elf go ta many places before?"

_Why would he ask that? _she thought, brows furrowing. Isera then waved it off nonchalantly. _Must be the sake of small talk._

"I suppose so," she began slowly, staring at the slab of flesh being roasted. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of raw tissue. "I've been to nearly most of Kalimdor and Eastern Kingdoms. Loch Modan, particularly, fascinates me. Have you _seen _the dam they built? It's really large." It was true, she usually spent her time travelling to different locations; sometimes to complete tasks for others, or to merely explore and familiarise herself better. Her notebook was filled with notes of each place she had visited; including her own homeland.

"Ah," was his reply as his countenance took that of thoughtfulness. At this strange answer and display, she arched a brow at him, but did not push it further.

"How are you feeling?" she then asked, eyeing him. She had lessened her pampering, seeing how quickly he seemed to be recovering. Of course, she still checked on him from time to time.

_Better to be safe than sorry, after all. _She really didn't fancy him collapsing from a sudden attack.

When he did not shake off her question like he usually did, she sat up straighter, senses awake.

"Ta be honest, mon," he started warily. "I've been feelin' a bit of pain in da head and chest." Alarm shot through Isera, and in an instant she was beside him.

"How long, exactly?"

"Since 'bout dis mornin'," he abruptly let out a wince. "Ah, it be hurtin' again now."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she demanded, exasperated. In the morning, he had appeared to be relatively fine. She felt unnerved by the sudden change in the way he carried himself.

"It didn't seem to be dat pain den," he defended. "Ma head be spinnin'..."

"Here," she grabbed the flask from the ground where it had been spinning in circles. Sen'ji Jr let out a loud protest at his toy being taken away. "Drink some water."

As she watched him swallow, she let out a sigh.

_There isn't much I can do for inner pain, _she thought. _Plus, there's barely any herbs in this god-forsaken hellhole._

"Are you able to get up and, you know?" she narrowed her eyes at him. It would indeed be a problem if the pain escalated to that of him being physically restricted. Sen'ji shook his head.

"I don't think so..."

Isera worriedly witnessed him squeeze his eyes shut, and clutch the sides of his head. In the time they had spent together, she actually felt a part of her genuinely worry for his well-being.

Out of the blue, the troll shot up, his amber eyes wide open, nearly popping out of their sockets. She blinked, feeling her heart start to race.

"Sen'ji?" she cautiously said, shocked as both of his arms stretched out in front of him and he began to stagger forward. The ranger leapt up in apprehension.

"Da light!" he cried. "I see da light in front of me!"

"_What?_" she exclaimed, dashing to his side. At both of their unpredicted movements, Sen'ji Jr screeched and gave chase; Tenma remained in slumber, tail twitching.

She instinctively grabbed his shoulder to slow him down, but Sen'ji seemed to speed up even more at her touch.

"Everyding's red!" Sen'ji trembled, his whole body began to shake in turn. "Loa, take me! Save dis poor troll from da agony!" he raised both arms high up to the sky, before dropping to his knees; seemingly offering himself to whatever god his kind worshipped.

"What agony?" she repeated, eyes widening. "Sen'ji! I need you to stop! I think it's another stage of the toxin!" It _had _to be; why else would he be acting this way?

_What in Cenarius' name is going on? _she thought, horrified, as he dropped to the ground and began to convulse. She ran to his side and grabbed hold of his shoulders, shaking the troll wildly.

"Sen'ji! Snap out of it!" she growled, shaking him even rougher, to no avail. She leaned back, and breathed.

_There is only one way._

Isera began slapping him.

Left, right, left right, she whacked his cheek with considerable force. The raptor snapped his jaw and using one powerful hind-leg, kicked his owner's back. He chirped in amusement.

Sen'ji groaned and rolled away from her.

All was silent for a while.

"Sen'ji?" she finally whispered, shaking her hand.

_Is he... dead?_

To her relief, the Horde rolled again; this time facing her.

"What'cha do dat fer, mon?" he weakly coughed, struggling to push himself up.

"No, wait, don't move!" she gently pulled him upwards. "Are you okay?" She pursed her lips, and then added apologetically, "I'm sorry I had to do that, but you just went nuts there."

"I did?" he looked at her, the epitome of confusion. Isera nodded solemnly, new-found anxiety sinking in.

"Yes... I think you were possessed for several moments." She swallowed. "Did you... partake in any dark rituals before? Or tied yourself to a certain deity?" Sen'ji stared at her.

"_Wad?_" he shook his head vigorously. "Nay, Sen'ji do no voodoo," he grumbled. "Dey be taboo, mon."

"Can you walk?" she nervously quizzed, concern etched on her pretty features as she watched him move back slowly to the camp. The troll rubbed his right cheek, and Isera cleared her throat upon catching sight.

"Ya, mon," he assured. "Ol' Sen'ji be fine."

"I earnestly don't think that's the case," she muttered, following him. "What kind of scorpion was it that bit you?" she pondered. "To cause such a reaction?"

"I don't know, mon," he wheezed. "Must be a monsta scorpion, dat fella."

"Do you have a cold now?" she gasped. Sen'ji swung his head from side to side.

"Night is comin'," he explained, shakily pointing one of his two fingers to the above. It was now dark, and several stars had made their appearance. "Tanaris get cold at dis time of da day."

When the two settled down again and wrapped in their respective cloaks, Isera bit her lip.

"Would you be able to make your way to Gadgetzan?" The elven huntress had planned to take her leave once her sickly associate seemed recovered enough - and that, specifically, was originally meant to be around the next day; yet the recent events were beginning to make her decide otherwise.

_Now that I've just witnessed... that... I'm starting to doubt his abilities._

"I ain't sure," he breathed after a while. "I feel like fire be bitin' at ma heels."

Isera hesitated in her reply.

_Should I voice out my thoughts?_

"Da elf can go on without Sen'ji," he grimaced in pain, and she wasn't evident whether the pain came from the poison... or from her brutality. " Why ya still 'ere?" He straightened his back. "Da elf did say she would leave once Sen'ji be fine, yea? Ma fever be gone, now."

"...Are you sure?" she peered at him. He _did _seem well, but she now knew better than to judge a book by its cover. Sen'ji nodded, patting the flank of his mount.

"Sen'ji Jr be 'ere," he shrugged.

"You're... but what just occurred..." Isera trailed off, frowning.

_His fever may be gone... but the effects of the sting may make its wretched comeback._

"Ya worry too much, elf," he snorted. "Da elf be Alliance, I be Horde; ya shouldn't care 'bout wad would happen to me." He paused, and a solemn expression took over. "I'll ride on Sen'ji Jr. If someding bad happens..." he disregarded it. "Sen'ji can always walk dere 'imself... or crawl... or—"

"That's not going to happen," Isera interrupted, having heard enough. "—because I'm coming with you."

"Da elf be talkin' nonsense," the troll retorted.

"No, I am not," she lifted her chin. "I'll escort you to Gadgetzan. You have a friend waiting there; I don't fancy her finding out you never made it to Gadgetzan." she gave him a sharp look. "Don't argue with me; I have decided upon this."

_Even though the tauren seems as scary as that male warrior during Noblegarden... urgh, that springrobe._

"I'm only doing this because if I _do _ditch you in the state you are... I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life should I ever find out you died on the journey..." she raised her shoulders before letting it drop.

_Plus, perhaps she'd let me off once she sees I've brought him in one piece._

"If da elf says so," Sen'ji blinked.

"Yes, I said so," she raised one eyebrow. "You should sleep. I'll keep watch."

"Ya hardly gotten any sleep," he stated. She chuckled.

"I don't get tired easily." Luckily, he didn't argue further.

As Isera cleared the remnants of the fire, she couldn't help but think,

_Why do I feel as though I've just made the worse decision of my life?_

.

...

.

A shrouded figure watched them from the distance. He smirked to himself.

_My, my... what do we have here?_

Chuckling, his laughter increased in volume when suddenly, he caught on his own spit.

Choking, he coughed and wheezed; the echoes of his brief suffering resounding throughout Tanaris.

.

...

.

Isera's head shot up in alarm as she heard an inhumane...

_Growl? Roar? Gurgle? ...By the Gods, what kind of monstrosity is that?_

Upon hearing the horrendous sound die down, she relaxed.

_I must be hearing things._

The ranger then continued her watch.

.


	9. The Hard Truth

.

_Stubborn troll._

Isera rolled her eyes as they tracked across the dry sand; the blistering sun glaring. They had started their course towards Gadgetzan two hours before sunrise, and along the way, killed several nosy beasts and other less-than-favourable creatures that had decided to 'have some fun'. Sen'ji rode on his raptor, while the remaining two walked.

Now, after considerable silence between them, she had tried to persuade him to congest the herbs she had earlier to make into medicine. Much to her annoyance, he had refused again and again after each of her reasoning. She had expected that after knowing how... _unstable_ and _unpredictable_ the toxin was, he would agree with her. Yet fifteen minutes had now passed, and they were still at it.

_Alas, he does not see practicality, apparently._

"Just take it!" she growled, irked, as she looked up at him. "Who knows what could happen next?"

Sen'ji glanced at her, and snorted. "Da herbs may not work."

_There, another excuse to add to the list_, she narrowed her silver orbs at him. _How many different 'reasons' is he going to come up with next? 'I'm allergic to plants'?_

"So what if it isn't the proper prescription?" she shook her head. "It may still help you, one way or another.

"So take it!" she demanded. Sen'ji shook his head to both sides, and she felt like hitting his head over with a mallet. She'd reckon it'd knock some sense into his hollow skull.

"Nah, mon," he sniffed. "Sen'ji no need da elf's magic flowas," he muttered, giving the materials in her hands a distasteful look. She stared at him.

"They're just herbs!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "I hadn't enchanted it, or anything! Eat it!"

"By Loa, how many times must Ol'Sen'ji tell ya?" he flexed his fingers. "I'm not gonna eat dem!"

_Cenarius help me!_

"Fine, but don't come crawling to me if something occurs," she clicked her tongue, looking away.

_He has a knack for getting beneath people's skin,_ she thought sourly.

Unknowingly, she then voiced out her thoughts.

"Two-toes."

At this realisation, she mentally kicked herself.

_Ah, damn. _Still, she couldn't help but feel slightly more cheerful.

At this, Sen'ji's head arched downwards to look at her. By his expression, she could pretty much tell he wasn't_ too_ pleased. Isera had not expected him to come up with a name of his own, though.

"Tree-hugga."

_How dare he!_

"Why, you little—" She halted in her sentence as she caught sight of an oblivious human riding upon a huge elk in the far distance. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice their presence.

A sly smile played on her lips.

"Sen'ji," she called. The troll's stare scorched her, but she ignored it and jerked her head towards the elk.

"I think I see your cousin right there," she grinned. Sen'ji took a look, and huffed.

"Ain't nothin' like a troll!" he objected angrily, clearly insulted by her words. Isera blinked, and looked at him innocently.

"It doesn't?" she gasped, mocking surprise in her voice. "It _does _have tusks, big feet, and large, long noses, though..." she trailed off thoughtfully.

Sen'ji gawked at her, astounded.

_"Ya be comparin' Sen'ji ta dat ugly beast?!"_

Isera wrinkled her nose.

"Who said you were handsome in the first place?"

.

...

.

Isera pulled her pack into her lap. It was now nightfall; they had travelled for the entire day while taking small breaks in between. When the sun had finally set, they set up camp by several large hills. To their relief, no pests resided there and none nearby as well.

However, that was an hour before. As the three members of their party dozed, she stayed awake, sitting at the far edge. She looked up, studying the sky. To her favour, the night's weather wasn't as cold compared to the previous days. She had given her cloak to Tenma, instead.

Opening one of the many pouches of her travel-bag, she slowly pulled out a pendant that gleamed and glittered beneath the moonlight.

A simple silver chain, intricate designs, and in the centre held a glimmering amethyst. Flecks of white-gold could be seen within and on it - a simple piece of jewellery, but beautiful and memory-worn. Isera exhaled softly, running her fingers gently over the carved marks and smooth surface. Time had done little to it.

The ranger soon became lost in her reminiscing. Images of two female elves in the woods of Teldrassil flashed in her mind; one young, and one older than the first, but nonetheless youthful. Purple mane of hair, glowing amber eyes crawled out of her folder and into the scene. The older elf was laughing; the perfect specimen of elven beauty. The edges of her eyes crinkled up into a smile as she conversed with the less-experienced kal'dorei.

Isera shut her eyes, tears threatening to fall. She inhaled deeply, and opened them once more.

"Wad be dat yer holdin'?"

She spun around to see Sen'ji crouched several metres off. In response, she bit her lip, unsure of how to reply and whether she should _even _reply.

After she had compared him to the elk, they continued to throw insults to one another - each being worse than the last. It had built up to the point where both had grown furious with each other, and the two didn't talk till they settled in the dark. In fact, the only thing she had addressed to him afterwards was for him to stop the night.

Finally, she sighed.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

The troll shrugged. "I couldn't." He tilted his head. "Ya didn't answer ma question." Isera scowled, then relaxed.

"It was given to me by a friend," she explained softly, looking down at it.

"Dat be very vague, elf," he murmured, seating himself down.

"There's not much to know about it," she muttered uncomfortably, shifting in her position. She _really_ didn't appreciate him prodding at a raw spot. However, for some strange reason, she didn't feel like chasing him and his curiosity off.

Perhaps she needed to let it out after decades of keeping to herself.

Weird that she would be telling it to a Horde.

"I wanna know," he plainly stated, heaving his shoulders.

"Persistent, aren't you?" she said beneath her breath. "Very well," she relented after a while. "Before I... became a ranger - you should remember this - I took care of sabers. It was then I met her." She turned the memento in her hands. "She was like an older sister to me," she continued quietly.

Sen'ji watched her - she seemed to be more of talking to herself than him.

"Our people had hopes of her becoming a druid; she had amber eyes, you see. Yet, she didn't; she became a ranger." Isera glanced up. "Many were disappointed. They thought her being a ranger would never unlock her true potential. She proved them wrong, though," she laughed. It was a melancholy laugh, Sen'ji noted. "It was at that moment that I decided to follow in her footsteps.

"Before I left for Ashenvale for my training," she hesitated. "She gave me this necklace as a gift and symbol of our friendship." The hunter gazed at it. "I never saw her again, afterwards. This," she lifted the gem up. "—is all I have left of her."

"Da elf could 've easily gone bak to see 'er," Sen'ji cautiously said, his instincts warning him to tread carefully. He stiffened with he heard a sharp intake of breath.

"She died during an invasion; just the day after I left," Isera said bitterly. "A group of remaining demons from the Burning Legion managed to sneak past our sentinels and into my village. They killed her when she was trying to evacuate the villagers," she snarled, turning away. "Who would have known they remained in hiding for so long - after the events of the Well of Eternity?"

Sen'ji did not reply. He was unsure how. He had heard of the events of the Well, and its horrific consequences. It amazed him that after thousands of years, she could still remember the past clearly.

"Was da elf dere?" he asked, wanting to confirm his thoughts.

"There? What, during Azshara's time of reign?" she gave a soft chuckle and shook her head. "No... I was born a thousand years after," her voice hardened. "My people didn't forget what had happened. They couldn't. Knowledge of what had occurred was passed down to all night elves, and it still does till this day."

In a weak attempt to lighten up the mood, Sen'ji grinned; completely masking up his astonishment and awe.

"Da elf is old, den."

To his surprise, she snorted, but a smile broke out on her face.

"Old? No, to my people, I'm merely in the early stages of adulthood."

"So when exactly was da elf born?" he questioned, genuinely curious.

"The events of the Well was roughly ten thousand years ago," Isera explained. "That makes me nine thousand at this point. I... I met _her _three thousand years ago. I then underwent two thousand years of training to become what I am today. I finished my, ah, _lessons _around four hundred years in the past."

"Two dousand years?" Sen'ji coughed, looking floored. "Just fer _trainin'_?"

"Yes," she replied, amused. "There is much to learn of everything. Learning doesn't stop. It never will," she gave him a look. "Every second, there are new changes. We learn about these changes; thus our learning is constant." She sniffed. "Technically speaking, I'm still an apprentice."

"Words of wisdom from da elf," the troll raised a brow. Isera merely laughed again, and he followed suit.

After a few moments, she looked at him.

"Thank you."

"Wad fer?"

"For listening," she simply said. "I really needed it." A soft smile touched her face. "Guess I never found that out till now."

Sen'ji waved a hand. "Dat be nothin'. No need for ya ta dank me." He stood up. "I be sleepin' now." He paused, contemplating something, before saying, "Nights, elf."

As he walked off, Isera placed the pendant back into her bag.

_Ande'thoras'ethil, Alannaria._

.

...

.

As the silhouette of Gadgetzen appeared over the horizon, Isera felt a twinge of panic. The reasons why were pretty obvious. She looked from the corner of her eyes towards an equally silent Sen'ji. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

She scowled. _I bet he's having fun thinking of what his friend is going to do to me._

After the events of last night, she had to admit, she felt closer to said troll.

_Well, it's not everyday you tell a member of a Horde about your past._

The two of them didn't talk about what she had told him; and she felt rather grateful for it. She didn't think she could stand thinking and talking about the subject for the second time.

Isera shuddered, her thoughts shifting to the tauren she was, inevitably, going to meet.

_Is she going to pummel me the moment our eyes clash? _she winced. It hurt to even picture it. _Or will she tie and gag me before dragging me to her hidden lair to__—_

"We be 'ere," Sen'ji's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and her heart lunged down the abyss. She had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn't noticed they had already reached Gadgetzan. She nodded and they walked past the goblin bouncers that eyed them suspiciously. They were neutral, and did not question the strange pair.

_If they do... _she warily thought, then frowned. _They shouldn't be that surprised; surely they must have seen quirkier bunches than us?_

Isera looked about her surroundings; she had been here before, but rarely. The place seemed to be the same as when she had last seen it, apart from a few new vendors here and there. She was heavily relieved at the sight of no other people from either faction.

The flight masters didn't particularly care - to them, as long as it was a neutral hub; pretty much anyone from Alliance and Horde could 'civilly' sit down with one another.

_Gadgetzan... the capital of Tanaris that reeks of scum and thieves._

"Sen'ji!" a low voice called, and before she could process it - a large tauren towered above her.

She was tall, and if estimated, would be around Sen'ji's not-crouching height. She had a ruffled chocolate-brown mane that grew all the way down till her upper back, and sandy-brown patched fur.

Her hooves weren't as razor-sharp as Isera had envisioned it to be, and the cow donned on a simple brown robe and large beads hung around her thick neck. Tied to her back was a simple wooden staff that hung several adornments; she recognised them to be frequently used by shamans.

Hazel met silver, and a jolt ran through Isera.

_Is this... the tauren? _she gaped, taken aback. _The very tauren that was described to be a ruthless gladiator?_

"She's _nothing_ like you said!" she hissed to a certain startled troll.

"Are you referring to me?" the tauren asked curiously. Isera took a step back, her hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. Tenma let out a soft growl, muscles tensed. Sen'ji Jr merely let out a loud screech - it attracted attention for less than two seconds before the merchants went back to counting their gold - and nudged her shoulder excitedly.

"Sen'ji... he said you were—" she started, partially confused. She furrowed her brows, untrusting.

"Hold on dere," said troll interrupted, hurriedly placing himself between the two of them. "Wadeva I said 'bout Nairel 'ere be false."

_What?_

It dawned upon her.

She scowled.

_This whole time... I've been worrying over nothing?_

"So you lied to me, just to see me nervous?" she bared her teeth, ignoring the puzzled and queer expression from the other female.

Sen'ji snorted. "Da elf was bein' mean ta me den."

"So this was just some petty payback?" she glowered at him.

_He can't be serious!_

At his somewhat apologetic yet defiant look, Isera was honestly entertaining the idea of chucking a large rock to his head.

_No, scrap that._

She lunged for his throat, but stopped abruptly when she noticed two bouncers staring straight at them; poised to intervene and possibly beat all them to a pulp. She withdrew hastily, and casually slung her arm around his shoulders. She gave a shaky laugh and waved at them.

"Waddya be doin', elf?" Sen'ji hissed into her ears, stunned by her unprecedented action. He made no attempt to shrug her off, though.

"Shut up," she muttered. When they looked away after several moments, miens indifferent, she sighed and paused, thinking for a few seconds.

She turned and kicked sand towards him.

"Is da elf serious?" he scoffed, folding his arms.

"Yes," she glared up at him. "Damn trolls," she grumbled.

"Now, now," Nairel's soothing voice sounded. The two looked at her; Isera albeit uneasily. She didn't trust her; she still expected her to swing her weapon at any moment and go berserk.

_I bet all friends of Three-Fingers here are similar to him, _she darkly inferred.

The tauren cast a withering stare at Sen'ji, whose eyes widened.

"_What _exactly, did he say about me?"

.


	10. Subtle Manipulation

.

"Ah, I see," Isera nodded in understanding, sipping from her flask. She and Nairel sat at one of the corner tables of Gadgetzan's inn while Sen'ji went off to the vendors'. His raptor and her cat remained outside, pretty much just lazing about.

She didn't exactly feel comfortable sitting with a tauren, but she knew nothing bad would happen... seeing the amount of bouncers the place had. When the troll had left them, rather warily, silence ensued before Nairel took the initiative to break the ice between them.

Now, after talking about random topics, Isera could admit that she liked her. For one, she was absolutely nothing she had expected her to be. On the contrary, Nairel was fairly friendly, amiable and compassionate. Perhaps it due to her being a shaman.

_Apparently, I don't get to meet stereotypical Hordes these days. _She didn't exactly know whether that was to be a good thing, or not.

Isera had wanted to leave the area as soon as she got here, but Nairel had so-kindly invited her for a chat to 'know the other faction better'. Being aware that she wasn't going to be bound or whatever, the elf confirmed her safety and had cautiously accepted. Besides, she thought she could use with a bit of knowledge about enemy races.

_I can always leave later, _she recalled herself thinking before entering the dim lounge. She was certain that even if they tried to stop her, she could easily do it.

"So," Nairel smiled at her, shifting in her seat. "Now, it's _your _turn to share on a subject." As she said this, her hazel eyes twinkling. She had just finished explaining a bit of her people's culture.

Yup, Isera _definitely _liked her.

"Well," she awkwardly started. "What exactly do you want me to talk about?"

"Perhaps you could start with how you became Sen'ji's travelling companion," the tauren suggested, her fingers absentmindedly toying with one of her prayer beads.

"It's a long story," Isera grumbled, but nonetheless told her. There was nothing to hide about it, anyway. If she refused to elaborate on it, Nairel would most likely just badger Sen'ji, instead.

_I'm sure he would tweak facts here and there, _she grumpily said in her head. There was absolutely no chance of her letting him do _that_.

As she concluded her short-lived tale, Nairel chuckled in amusement.

"An unusual story," she commented, taking a mouthful of water from her mug; Isera found the prices charged by the goblins here beyond ridiculous. "Yet entertaining, all the same."

"Indeed," the ranger agreed, a specific question popping in her mind.

She blinked. "Do you know how Sen'ji came by Sen'ji Jr?"

At this unexpected question, Nairel appeared taken aback. Her expression disappeared as soon as it had appeared, though, and she grinned.

"Ah, it truly is a... unique tale." She shrugged. "Sen'ji told me a few months back, when we were together in Durotar for a common quest. Something about killing harpies and taking back stolen goods..." she frowned, remembering the past.

"You two seem to often spend time together."

"We do. We have been friends for several years."

"Maybe you could enlighten me more on that," Isera suggested.

Nairel laughed - her laugh was light and reminded the huntress of wind chimes. "I'll talk on that later.

"Sen'ji Jr was merely a hatchling when he crossed paths with Sen'ji. Our lovable troll here had been in his late adolescence years then. As you may know, trolls tend to wander about the jungle, doing their own things...

"Well, he had been skinning tigers and completing objectives when he spotted a wild raptor's nest several metres ahead. It was empty, and shell fragments were scattered about. You must be cognisant that Sen'ji can be quite..." she trailed off, looking for the right word to say.

"Retarded?" Isera put in helpfully.

"Yes, that," Nairel's lips twitched upwards. "_Retarded _in terms of survival skills. Most would steer clear from such a nest, believing the mother had taken the hatchlings out and would be returning soon; but him being him, Sen'ji actually hid beneath ferns, and waited." She heaved her shoulders. "He was always a curious one, and it never benefitted him more than it harmed him.

"After a short while, the family indeed returned, and the mother left again shortly after. Her children did what they usually did when left alone - play. As Sen'ji watched, however, he noticed one lone hatchling separated from the rest.

"It was chirping and chasing its own tail, while its siblings play fought with one another. None of them made any attempt to invite it over, and Sen'ji soon realised it was being shunned by them."

"Shunned?" Isera gasped, feeling a twinge of sadness. Nairel nodded.

"The mother returned, bringing back food with her." Here, she visibly saddened. "After they had all eaten, Sen'ji witnessed the mother screeching at the lone offspring and using her tail to steer it away from the rest." She grimaced. "She then left the nest permanently - perhaps to find a new one - with the rest of the hatchlings, but not it. When it _did _try to follow, she would screech to startle it off."

"Why would she do that?" the night elf asked, a small 'v' forming between her brows.

_Poor Sen'ji Jr._

"Who knows?" Nairel replied. "Perchance it was to lessen the percentage of possible predators being attracted to an... _easy _target. She must have thought with the way it behaved, it would have a low chance of survival in the wilds, and would therefore be hunted enthusiastically by carnivores. She may have done so to keep the rest of her babies safe.

"Sen'ji, after ensuring the raptors had left, then came forward. The hatchling was curled up in the nest, letting out soft calls and snuffling. It was then that he decided to bring it home to his village. Not _too _surprisingly, it didn't protest much when he cradled it in his arms.

"Thus Sen'ji Jr was born," Nairel concluded. "Sen'ji raised it, and by the time he was a young adult, Sen'ji Jr had grown to be of massive size," she further explained. "Basically, these two have a special bond. A bond not easily forged and not as common between trolls and their companions."

"Who would have thought Sen'ji had a heart?" Isera joked, still feeling upset by the short prose. "I thought trolls preferred to have vicious animals to bear them," she pointed out, her mind shifting to the Amani tribe.

At this, Nairel looked at her, shaking her head ruefully.

"No, Darkspear trolls are more... compassionate, in a sense. They generally accept any personality of their mounts. The bond created between them and their animal pets are special when compared to the bonds between the other troll tribes and _their _pets. Viciousness do not apply to the Darkspear. They love their animals as they are."

"I'm glad Sen'ji Jr is part of the Darkspear, then," Isera beamed, marvelling at how alike Vol'jin's people and her people were. Nairel agreed.

"Sen'ji Jr may be less... ferocious as normal raptors are, but he's just as loyal and just as fierce in the face of threat," she affectionately said.

_I'll never look at Sen'ji the same way, ever again._

Frankly speaking, she always had; ever since witnessing and experiencing his treatment of her. She never admitted it, though. Or at least, not till today.

"Dat be right, mon," Sen'ji's voice sounded and Isera jumped in surprise. As he slid into the seat beside Nairel and opposite hers, she raised a brow at him.

"How long have you been listening?"

"Just da last sentence," he shrugged, his attention shifting to Nairel. "So ya told 'er 'bout Sen'ji Jr?"

"She asked, so I did," she replied. "You've gotten your needed stuff?"

"Ya, mon, it be wid Sen'ji Jr."

"Ah," Isera abruptly stood up. "I need to buy certain items, as well. I'll... urm, see you all later."

Without waiting for a response, she hurriedly left.

.

...

.

Isera had honestly intended to leave Gadgetzan after purchasing whatever necessary merchandise. Really, she did.

She had taken quite a while at the stalls - the amount of things they sold were just immeasurable - and had finished placing the neatly-wrapped packages into the bag. Tenma came up to her and purred, as though sensing her next action. Sen'ji Jr stood by her side, nearly towering over her. Feeling affection swell up within her, as well as recollecting Nairel's words, she patted him on the head, earning a pleased shriek.

She, like the other times before deciding to escape, felt a bit bad for leaving them behind without warning. Still, it was what had to be done. For some reason, Isera knew if she remained here, she wouldn't be able to leave as easily as she could now.

Determination rising, she was just about to motion for Tenma to follow when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Isera!"

_By Elune! Is every attempt going to be foiled?_

Grimacing, as well as inwardly cursing, she turned to see Nairel by the entrance of the inn, gesturing for her.

Despite her motions, the look on her face caused Isera's eyes to widen.

_Does she know? _She waved it off, and holding back another long string of vulgarities, walked up towards the shaman. _It doesn't matter. I'll leave either way. _Resolution surged through her.

If they didn't know of what she had just tried to do, she would find another time to sneak off. If they did, she would just walk out in front of them. They wouldn't dare restrain her; this was Gadgetzan - it would be foolish to do so.

When she stopped in front of her, Sen'ji appeared and casting a look at her, went by into one of the many huts. His silent actions puzzled her, but she didn't think too much into it.

"What is it?" she questioned, almost worriedly. Nairel tilted her chin upwards in turn.

"I would like to talk with you, Isera." She raised a hand. "It would only take a moment. The outcome of it will all depend on you."

This statement only puzzled her even more.

_Outcome? What is she going on about?_

Watching her suspiciously, she finally assented.

"Very well."

.

...

.

Sen'ji stalked past the elven ranger, ignoring the surprised expression on her face, and into one of the largest shops in the settlement. He would let Nairel settle the rest - he was confident she would be able to do so.

As he looked at the products neatly lined on the many wooden shelves, disregarding the flirtatious looks and winks the green-skinned female was directing towards him, his thoughts crossed over to the pretty she-elf he had captured on what seemed to be so long ago.

When he first saw her from the bushes, he had been completely enamoured by her appearance for a short while. Luscious blue hair that came down in waves, finely-shaped eyes that glowed a soft silver, and sharp, perfectly-sculptured features. Of course, all that was swept away after seeing and hearing his raptor screech in pain. He had to admit that her fighting skills were impressive and would have proved lethal, had she not failed at the last second.

After he had taken her captive, he honestly hadn't as much of a clue on what exactly to do with her. He just did it; all without a plan for the future. He just knew he wasn't going to let her go that easily. Scaring her with Nairel had been partially true; he had decided to bring Isera to Gadgetzan since the beginning - to plan his next step with the aid of his tauren friend.

Once Sen'ji found out she knew places well, especially in the Eastern Kingdoms, an idea had finally hatched in his mind.

To bring her along for quests.

It sounded impossible to accomplish, especially with one so hotheaded as herself, but he thought he would succeed in it in the end. He had many uncompleted quests, and majority of them were located in places he had never seen or heard of before. It would lower his chances of survival should he travel there without knowing the area fairly well. Thus, he needed a potential guide - which so happened to be a night elf.

Initially, he planned to knock her out, bound her again, and drag her across Azeroth. He would ignore her complaints and demands, of course.

He would tell her it was for a good cause.

He told Nairel of his plan during the elf's shopping, and - surprisingly - managed to convince her in his cause. He knew she too had quite a number of uncompleted objectives, and wasn't well-versed in locations far from Mulgore, the Barrens and Durotar. She refused to taking a mace and slamming it behind the elf's head, though.

She said it 'wasn't the right thing to do', and offered to attempt to convince Isera to actually follow them_ willingly_. Sen'ji had scoffed at that, but dulled when she reasoned about it. Nairel said if they were civilised and polite enough, she would most likely agree to it. However, by forcefully making her trail after, there was no doubt she may hate them, and lie about facts to get them killed.

"She be part of da Alliance," he had protested. "Da elf would neva agree ta follow us on 'er own will."

_That_, of course, he doubted himself.

Not more than once, he thought how different she was - compared to the other elves he had come across in the past.

"You know as well as I do," Nairel had retorted. "That Isera is a kind-hearted person. If we're soft in our approach, we may be able to coax her."

Upon seeing his reluctance, the tauren persuaded him, and he hesitantly obliged.

Sen'ji looked out towards the inn, and narrowed his amber orbs.

He prayed to Loa for things to go well.

If not...

_I'll just wrestle her to the ground before she leaves. Yea... sounds like a plan._

Nodding to himself in approval, he turned his head to study a pair of daggers.

The storekeeper huffed, and sulked behind her desk.

.

...

.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Isera shot Sen'ji a deep scowl.

"I only agreed to this," she furiously said to his stunned countenance. "Because of my conscious."

When Nairel had revealed to her the agenda of the conversation, she had hurriedly and firmly placed her foot down.

Yet, after being told on how the two of them didn't know their way around anywhere far from their homeland, she began to waver.

Not only did she like the tauren, the thought of Sen'ji leading them around and then getting them lost was enough to cause sympathy in her heart.

_Poor Nairel, _she remembered thinking. _To be stuck with one such as him._

There came the conflict within her own head.

The conflict of two different alliances.

As an Alliance, she wasn't supposed to be aiding the Horde, yet she asked herself this : _Is faction really worth the possible loss of two lives?_

After thinking about it, she pretty much knew her answer.

"You had best be thanking Isera, Sen'ji," Nairel reproved gently, giving her the usual don't-try-to-run-or-you'll-find-an-axe-lodged-behind-your-back look.

_As sweet as she is... she still is a tauren._

"Yes, and I'm not going to be a captive, or anything of that sort, right?" she looked to Nairel, inwardly reminding her of the 'terms and conditions' they had previously discussed. The latter dipped her head in silent reply.

The troll recovered, and sheepishly grinned.

"Ah, well, dat be fine," he replied, somewhat cheerfully. "Dank ya, elf."

She nearly softened till his mouth opened again.

"Ya know, I was about to personally bind ya again," he laughed, acting as though it didn't matter. "Glad ta not do it in da end."

_Dear, Sargeras..._

.


	11. Happy Campers

.

The heat was almost unbearable. It scorched her hide, and deepened her need for hydration. The unfamiliar region was desolate with a barren feel. White sand flew wildly; the occasional grain acting as an irritant.

They were at the southern edge of Thousand Needles, having recently left Gadgetzan three days ago. Now, they were heading to Ratchet, a trading settlement located in the Barrens.. This specific part of their location resembled Tanaris in terms of terrain and its inhabitants. Of course, it too held its own individual traits.

At that moment, Sen'ji slipped the Finger to the elven huntress.

Isera reciprocated the act with a strange gesture that Nairel figured to be vulgar in Elvish culture.

"_Ishnu-alah_," Isera said mockingly.

Nairel stifled a sigh, as Sen'ji snarled in harsh Zandali, "_Zulfi_!"

She was confident that as long the two remained together, bickering was a necessity.

Through her training to become one with nature, she had long since learnt to forsake materialism; to learn to pay heed to that of character and heart. Therefore, when discussing Isera, it was easy to declare her liking for the elf, in spite of certain flaws. Not only was she amicable and knowledgeable, she too brought life to the party.

A loud thump caused her to become startled, and Nairel turned her head to the right.

She was greeted with the sight of Sen'ji sprawled out on the surface.

"You!" he growled to a grinning Isera. Her grin dissipated, and she frowned.

"What?" she asked, genuinely sounding as though she was taken aback by his abrupt and brash accusation.

"Da elf did dis!" he jabbed a finger in her direction, yellow orbs alight and blazing. "Ya kicked me off!"

"I was testing your balance," she explained, just as the olive raptor let out a screech. "If you lack balance, you'll probably die from falling off a cliff, just because you couldn't sit on a rock.

"Consider it survival training," she offered cheerfully.

Scowling, but not replying, the warrior shot her a second glare.

Sen'ji Jr tilted his head, thoughtfully gazing at his owner. Tail swaying from side to side, and claws flexing, he proceeded to kick a fair amount of sand into Sen'ji's face. Tenma purred loudly, as though giving his heart-filled approval.

"Loa!" Sen'ji drew back in shock and annoyance. Coughing – he was coughing so passionately, that Nairel was entertaining the possibility of a seizure - he wiped his face with one arm, and with the other, managed to get up before dusting his armour.

Nairel held back her laughter, when she felt a chill go down her spine.

She froze, muscles tensing.

There was another presence. She could sense it.

It wasn't too close to their location, but it still proved risky. It would prove to be a huge problem, should it be a Horde or Alliance.

Glancing towards her party-mates, she found them still caught up in their argument. It was clear they were oblivious to what she had felt.

Nairel suddenly came to this realisation that she recognised the aura. In fact, she knew it to be the same as that when they were in Tanaris.

It was thought-provoking, but not malicious. Distinct - almost non-existent - yet still strong enough to be picked upon. If she thought hard enough, she thought it had some resemblance to that of arcane magic. Still, she wasn't sure, having spent most of her time in rustic sites where professions were partial to nature.

She looked about, restraining herself from coming off as anxious and uneasy.

Were they being trailed?

.

…

.

"Let's stop here the night," Isera proposed, just as the sun was setting to the west, below the horizon. Already the White Lady and Blue Child was beginning to rise, and soft mist tendrils formed. The darkness was that of widespread curtain. Shining dots were unveiled, accompanied by the howling wind.

Nairel stretched her muscles, relieved. Being seated on her faithful kodo for a relatively long period of time made her joints stiff and rigid. On the other hand, Sen'ji had a dubious expression written all over.

"'ere? I be reluctant, mon. It gives off a bad feelin'," he muttered. At this, Isera raised one perfectly arched brow.

"You've spent the night in the wilderness of Tanaris, before," she reminded him, almost with a teasing edge. "This should be no different. We can start worrying once we're deeper in. Our location at the moment is pretty secure," she reassured.

Sen'ji, having been persuaded, sat down with a deep crease etched in his forehead. The shaman looked at him, and from the words exchanged, supposed something had occurred to the two while they were on their way to seeing her, many days past.

"Tenma and I will go ahead and scout upwards, if it'll make you feel better. I wouldn't recommend starting a flame, but if needed..." Isera said. At the looks she suddenly received, she winced and raised both hands. "I'm not going to run away."

Taking in their unbudging disposition, she sighed.

"Look, I'll leave my bags here. I'll even leave this big guy," she patted said guy, who let out a pleased growl. "That way, you can be sure I will return." To further prove her point, she loosened her belongings from the saber, and placed them alongside theirs.

"Fine," Sen'ji rolled his eyes, relenting. "Get goin', elf."

As the silhouettes of the pair became smaller and smaller beyond the distance, Nairel exchanged glances with Sen'ji.

At her unanticipated smile, she was greeted in Orcish in a surprised, almost horrified tone.

"_What are you smiling for_?"

.

...

.

"Looks like it's just you and me, buddy," Isera scratched behind her companion's ears, and continued being on the lookout for any possible unwanted visitors. As they walked beneath the moonlight, she went through the events of the past few days.

Placing one foot in front of the other, she held back a frown at the recollection of the insolent goblin merchant she had the misfortune to cut deals with.

A day before the trio's departure, she had gone in search for a mount. She had little use for mounts, but Nairel had persuaded her to get one. After hearing the pros - which outweighed the cons - she have given in. It was there that a slimy, snot-faced goblin caught her attention, what with the many different creatures leashed behind his stall.

When she had approached him, he was eager enough to babble on and on about each animal in his possession. How he found each fauna, so on and so forth. He had spoken enough to let slip that he had, in fact, 'borrowed' a few of other travellers' companions, and played them off as his own.

She had thought goblins to be sly and cunning. Apparently, that had been an exception. Still, she did not comment, and after purchasing a massive, genuinely _stray_, muscular, sand-coloured sabercat - at an obscene price, mind you - the green-skinned pest commented,

"Good choice, miss! Oh, would you look at that colourful raptor there! My, my, such a beauty!" Hearing the malice lacing his words proved sufficient. Before making her leave, she had threatened to 'slice his throat and serve it as carrion to the birds that inhabit(ed) (the) waste'. To sum it all up, it had been a rather satisfying trip around the mart that day.

Who knew a goblin was _that _light?

"Lets return," she said to a yawning Tenma after a while, who shook his pelt in response. "Nothing potentially harmful seems to be here."

By the time she made her way back to the makeshift camp, it was already past nightfall, and sleep hung over several of them like a heavy cloud.

Shivering, whilst cursing the weather, she sat between her two dozing cats, and looked towards Nairel and Sen'ji. It was no surprise they were still awake, what with their suspicions.

However, Isera became curious at the uncomfortable demeanor of the troll. He wouldn't meet anyone's gaze, and seemed to have trouble carrying conversation. Nairel's smugness added to her curiosity, and she wondered if something had occurred between the pair.

Yet, she soon dismissed it - it had little to do with her own affairs, after all.

.


	12. Beautiful Creatures

.

It was morning. The sky was ablaze with blinding sunlight, and she shielded her eyes. There was little sign of life, save for the distant caws of buzzards and other carrion birds – as expected of the Shimmering Flats. After completing the night watch, her two companions had offered her relief, by now being aware of the elf's nocturnal nature.

The faint sound of skittering snapped her out of her reverie, and she leapt to her feet.

"What was that?" Nairel was positioned in an aggressive stance, her staff held tightly.

"Silithids, or scorpions," Isera said simply. Gently nudging Tenma with one foot, she grabbed her quiver, bow, and a silver-hilt dagger with a curved, sharp-edged blade. "Judging our location, I'd say they're silithids."

"Silithids?" the tauren's eyes narrowed. She had heard of them; part of the Aqir, and loyal servants to the Old God C'thun. Mindless, but dangerous.

"In the past, a group of Dwarven archaeologists dug too deep, ran into members of the Horde; the battle disturbed a whole hive of them," she explained, shrugging. She didn't exactly care for Dwarves. Their heads were usually stuck – too deeply - up their arses. "Some managed to save their rumps, but others weren't as lucky."

"How near is the dig site?" Nairel questioned, albeit uneasily, expecting to see an overgrown insect at any moment.

"Not too far from here," Isera pointed west. "Two or three miles there, and a wide array of remains from different races awaits," she grinned. "It's called the Rustmaul Dig Site."

"Dwarves and dem greed," Sen'ji scoffed, running his fingers along the edges of his axe. "I say dat dey be getting' wat dey deserve."

At that junction, the nightsaber let out a growl, and they fell silent. Sen'ji Jr stirred from sleep, before opening one large eye. The kodo stomped its feet, and the sand-coloured cat snarled, expressing their discomfort.

They remained in this manner, still and alert, till they could make out several silhouettes upon the horizon. The dark shapes were large and bulky, with three thick legs on each side. As they approached, they revealed themselves to be of a dull brown, with black markings printed on their carapace. The skittering increased in volume and soon enough, they were within bow-range.

"Should we make a break for it?" Nairel suggested. Sen'ji shook his head.

"Nay, dey be too close ta us. We can't outrun dem, if dey already be on owa heels."

"Mother Earth," Nairel winced, taking the sight in. "They look hideous. Like a mutation between ants and spiders."

"They do," Isera agreed, disgusted at seeing the giant bugs' features up-close.

Bending her bow and fitting an arrow, she aimed before releasing. It flew true and straight; right on target.

Piercing the face of the shrieking silithid, black blood flew from the open wound, and onto the sand. It fell forward, and remained motionless, its many legs twitching. In response, the four other of its kind hissed and let out high-pitched squeals.

"Uh-oh, they're enraged," she blinked, as they gained speed. "Watch out for their pincers," she grimaced.

Nairel did not reply – she swung her staff imbued with enchantments, and it slammed down upon the head of a rearing silithid, followed by a sickening crunch. She scowled as drops of fluid splattered against her face.

Sen'ji swung his axe, chopping off a pair of pincers from a snapping insectoid. Screeching in pain, it attempted to stab him with its forelegs. However, Sen'ji ducked it effortlessly, and heaving his axe upwards, decapitated the squirming mess. Its head rolled off, and its body thumped heavily onto the sand, bodily fluids leaking.

By the sides, Tenma and Sen'ji Jr were snapping and clawing at one that was particularly ferocious. The tail of the kodo rose, and fell upon the lower part of another silithid's body. That area being crushed and minced, it became glued to the ground. However, its six legs continued to serve as offensive tools; scrabbling and attempting to entrap at least one. The saber, who had been crouching, leapt, and landing upon its upper back, roared before sinking its fangs into the base of the bug's skull. Then, the head was off.

Isera had just relaxed when a loud voice called,

"Isera! Behind!"

She spun, and catching her breath, narrowly missed being sliced at the throat. The silithid, furious, unleashed another swipe of its sharp-edged leg, but soon found it to be of little use – it had been sliced off by gleaming metal. Letting out an unearthly cry, its pincers collided as it tried to clamp down her throat.

Isera bared her teeth, and lowered herself, using one muscled leg to roughly kick the exposed underside. Almost flying, it quickly recovered, and was just about to dash forward when two tomahawks lodged themselves into its back. Collapsing, it let out one final screech; one that echoed far and wide.

"Shit!" Isera whipped her head in the direction where answering calls had sounded.

"What's wrong?" Nairel came up, cheeks flushed from the fast-paced battle.

"More will be coming," she answered grimly. "That last call from _that_ thing—" she pointed backward to the writhing carcass behind. "—was an aggro call."

"How many will there be?"

"I don't know for sure," Isera flexed her fingers. "Possibly six to ten, if not more; these were just hive drones."

She then inspected them all, and found some to have obtained scratches. Thankfully, no wound inflicted was of serious nature. "It's foolish, though," she added. "To remain here and wait for them to arrive."

"We should leave," Nairel nodded, getting the hint. "It's more trouble than its worth, if we stay."

"Den, lets go," Sen'ji shrugged, amber orbs lowering into slits as he studied the substance that dripped from the axe. A putrid stench had been to settle about the scene, and already two buzzards flew atop their heads, waiting to swoop in.

Coming to a common decision, the three quickly packed their belongings, retrieved whatever weaponry that stuck out from the bodies, and left.

.

…

.

By the time they called it a day, nightfall had fallen. Dark drapes fell over the land, and all was pitch-black. On this particular night, the wind was strong, and sent small shivers down Isera's spine. The breeze had kicked up a fair amount of sand, and it irked her to no end. She pulled the hood over her head, and wrapped the cloak tightly about her frame.

After leaving behind the five dead silithids, they had walked north-east till the sunset, at the same time killing whatever nuisance that came their way. They ended up setting camp by Mirage Raceway; any further west and the Hordes over at Ironstone Camp would have become a problem. They decided to pass the eastern side of Weazel's Crater, before caving inwards to get to the drearier part of Thousand Needles the next day, just to minimise the chances of running into unwanted people.

As they settled, Isera still felt cautious and wary. She occasionally looked about her, picking out any possible threat. The gnomes and goblins cared naught for their presence; they were busying themselves with useless races and constant competitions.

_If caught, I'm a dead elf._

"We'll need to travel through this place fast," she pointed out to the other two. "Sources of water here are limited, and there's a wide range of obstacles lurking in every corner," she glumly muttered, despising the fact of having to hide and crouch for majority of the journey.

_Thousand Needles have way too many problems than is welcomed_, she added flatly.

"We should leave early at dawn," Nairel said, smoothing out the creases of her rucksack. They murmured their agreement, and were just preparing to sleep - without a fire; they weren't seeking to draw attention to themselves just yet - when—

"_Aahh-choo_!"

Isera jolted upright, as did Sen'ji and Nairel.

Tenma, who had been lying alongside her, perked his ears, and the raptor swerved his head in direction of the mysterious sound. The kodo and cat raised their heads, before slowly lowering them; they saw or felt no threat.

"What was that?" Nairel whispered from across.

"From ma experiences, it be a human," Sen'ji muttered, already getting up.

"Human?" Nairel repeated.

"Ya, mon," Sen'ji rolled his eyes, already touching the handle of his weapon. "Have ya neva heard a human sneeze before?"

"Hang on," Isera hissed, alarmed. "We're not going to _kill _him."

"Why not?" she received raised eyes. "He be Alliance, mon. If it be a Horde, da elf be doin' da same ding."

"That's not true," she protested, but it was kind of a lie. "Well," she tilted her head, and snapped back to attention. "Still! We can't just massacre him, it's too—"

"Wait," Nairel raised a hoof. She appeared to be concentrating, and after a short while, turned to Isera. "Do you sense it?"

"Sense what?" she questioned, surprised.

"The presence. It's similar to that of arcane," Nairel said lowly and hesitantly, as though she wasn't sure of sharing. "I've been feeling it since we'd left Gadgetzan." She shook her head. "It comes at infrequent intervals, but it gets stronger with each passing occurrence."

"You suspect that we're being followed?" Isera said quietly, understanding the hidden message lined behind those words. When answered in the affirmative, she felt troubled. "Perhaps I have," she finally said. "Supposedly, I didn't pay much attention to it."

Yes, now that she thought harder and deeper into it, she probably had. After all, there _had _been a few occasions in Tanaris that she had felt a prickling down her neck.

_Well done, Isera. What a fine huntress you make._

Sen'ji looked from Nairel to Isera, and held his tongue. In comparison to taurens and night elves, who were much more attuned with nature, trolls were less. More so warrior trolls.

"Well… if it's a stalker we're dealing with…" she trailed off, unconsciously reaching for her bow. She blinked, and Sen'ji was giving her an 'ahem' look, having noticed. She scowled, and withdrew her hand. "Let's not be rash. For all we know, he may be a lost soul that's in need of assistance… or, something," she coughed. "We should check it out, instead," she declared.

"Are you certain?" Nairel was giving her a look. "Don't you think it's a bit too risky?"

"It's better than charging in, without knowing what we're up against," she explained, suddenly impatient.

_Do all mortals think so shallowly? _she couldn't help but think.

"I'll go on ahead, then, if you guys are too scared to," she decided, standing. As usual, Tenma rubbed his head against her feet, and followed. As though sensing her next step of action, her mount purred, head-butting her back. Less than three days, and already a strong bond had formed between mount and rider; a common phenomenon between Night Elves and their nightsabers.

Without waiting for any form of reply, she strode firmly in the direction of the sneeze.

.

…

.

_Cenarius, what sort of sorcery is this?_

Isera blinked once. Twice.

Yet, the scene before her did not change.

A seemingly pitiful sheep gazed up at her, letting out a sad, '_baa-baa_'.

Its wool was thick, fluffy, and unbelievably white; it seemed to be a glow-in-the-dark antique. It had velvety black skin, and large button eyes. It being no larger than a travelling sack, it was clear the fauna could be tucked in the crook of an arm.

She remained speechless, and suddenly thought,

_A sheep? In Thousand Needles?_

_Elune, the world must be coming to an end._

Tenma growled, and licked his fangs, as though yearning for a meal.

Similarly, the sabercat sniffed the air, before turning its bright green gaze to the shivering animal.

She surveyed the dark, and when her gaze passed over the sheep, she thought she had seen one dark hoof raised upwards to the two felines, flipping the bird.

Startled, she looked back, but was greeted with the utmost normality.

_It must have been my imagination._

It was then that she sensed remnants of arcane magic, wafting through the air.

.


	13. Peaceful Negotiations

.

Isera took relaxed, slow steps – all with squirming sheep in hand. It was clear it did not want to be picked up, yet it could not escape from her iron grip. As she drew closer to her destination, Tenma made attempts to nip and bite, but she always shooed him off.

Upon catching sight of her return, as well as noticing the newly-acquired baggage, Sen'ji narrowed his eyes, and pointed to it suspiciously. "Wat in Loa's name is _dat_?" he growled. Nairel seemed to be thinking the same thing, but she remained silent, and merely watched as Isera sat down.

"It's our meal," Isera casually said. The moment she did, her skin was trampled over by tiny hooves; the attempts to escape had become more forceful. She winced, and applied a little more pressure onto the back of the sheep. Squashed, but not harmed, the vigorous movements weakened and declined.

Smiling, she said, "Have you all had lamb before?" The muscles beneath the wool tensed.

"_Baa-baa_!" was the loud call, almost that of whining. Isera glanced downwards, and held back from chuckling. Lifting her head, she locked eyes with Nairel. She raised a brow, and immediately, a glimmer of understanding shone in the cow's brown gaze.

"I don't suppose so," Nairel replied. "Only red snapper, mushrooms; what you would find in Mulgore," she shrugged. "I don't try new foods often, apart from the cuisine in my homeland."

"Hey, elf," Sen'ji rolled his eyes. "We be in Dousand Needles – why would dere be a sheep 'ere?" Without waiting for a reply, he edged closer, looking wary. Stooping by a bit, he brought his face closer to their apparent meal. "Someding be strange, mon."

Abruptly, he jerked back when the passive sheep suddenly tried to bite his nose. He growled, but to Isera's surprise, did not attempt to yank its head off. Maybe he had a soft spot for anything that weren't scorpions, or other kinds of monstrosities.

"Maybe it got lost," Nairel suggested. "A caravan, perhaps? Or it strayed from its original location."

"All da way out 'ere, widout dyin'?" was the retort.

"Whatever it is," Isera cut in. "It's food. So, would you like it roast— _Ow_!" she hissed, canine teeth exposed, as she pulled her hand away.

As though a whole pack of hounds were at its heels – which, technically speaking, was fairly accurate – said food leapt through the air. Landing softly onto the ground, it sped away into the night. Isera's eyes widened, and she suddenly felt vexed – mostly at being bitten.

All jokes placed aside, Isera shouted, "Tenma!"

Little more needed to be said. The lithe cat sprang up, muscles rippling. He then sprang after the unconventional escapee, all the while moving with astonishing speed and flexibility.

"You're going to bring it back?" Nairel questioned with a knowing glint.

Isera nodded, studying her wound, before her features contorted, expressing displeasure. A few thin lines had been marked on her wrist. Despite that, dark red blood still welled from within. In disgust, she went on to spot a transparent, slimy liquid smeared over it.

_You have got to be kidding me…_

_The bite's pretty deep, _she thought in dismay, as she began to feel slight stinging. Moreover, it didn't help in the least that the wind carried tons of bacteria and other foreign objects. _What sort of spawn from the Nightmare bites this hard?_

"Ya know," Sen'ji suddenly said thoughtfully. "I dought de little sheep had some sort of aura. It don't seem ta be a sheep at all." He ran one hand through his mane of hair, and a dark look crossed over. He muttered something unintelligible – possibly Zandali or Orcish – to Nairel. His friend blinked.

"We think so too. Sen'ji thinks it's probably the same person who sneezed," she then addressed to the huntress.

Isera's head snapped up towards Sen'ji, and he looked taken aback.

_Can it be? He's actually not too dense! _She gave an inner cheer – they had a chance of surviving, after all!

"Are you sure Tenma will be able to… ah, retrieve him back?" The question was directed to her.

"Of course he will," she responded with little hesitation. "He hardly falters in anything," she added, feeling a flash of pride for her furry friend.

Just as the last words left her mouth, yelling sounded, preceded by a growl. The trio exchanged glances – of both anticipation and dread – before heading forward to close the distance between them, and the assumed stalker. Of course, they did not leave unarmed.

They now surrounded the captured humanoid. After giving her pet a light pat, she turned her attention to the human; he laid face-up, a heavy weight on his ribs and stomach. He was now silent and panting, with a hood concealing his countenance. It was evident the drag had been taxing. The two Hordes were having slight difficulty in making out the traits and appearance of him, but Isera could easily do so.

He was dressed in an outer layer of black, yet beneath the thick cloak, she knew him to be donning a simple grey robe. He held in one hand, a long staff, with blue linen wrapping the top. In the other, a bulky brown bag.

Having recovered quicker than the rest, Isera wasted no time in drawing her curved blade. Replacing Tenma in pinning him to the ground, she grabbed the front of his collar, and roughly yanked him upwards. Knife perilously close to cutting into the neck, she snarled, "Look up, human. Let me see your face."

Her silver irises were met with piercing green.

.

…

.

"Curiosity kills the cat, mortal. Even a fool knows that," the one with long blue hair warned. "Tell us of your _true_ motive," this was said darkly, with a tiny dose of intimidation.

Said mortal huffed. He had been tied at the wrist, leg and ankle; albeit _too _tightly. He resisted the urge to stretch and flex. He found the prodding of the aggressive animals to be most painful. He sat across the night elf, having been forced – through the hints of impending mutilation before death - to answer whatever questions shot.

If he were to be frank, he _really _thought this interrogation to be of little necessity.

First of all, he was already aware of the unsaid reasons behind their violent behaviour, and unlike what they – especially the elf – thought, he was far from reporting them. _He _himself didn't care much for the conflict between the two factions. After all, he wasn't part of any, and understood that friendship extended beyond just one alliance. Ah, what a great philosopher he would have made.

Second, he had seen many other parties similar to the structure of theirs, and had left them alone. He had only tailed after this particular group due to boredom, having long completed his errands. But, _noo_, they wouldn't accept the word 'curiosity', and was now convinced he was some bastard hypocrite. _What was he supposed to do_?

"I have a name, you know," he mumbled, giving her a look. "It's Dell. Dell Harton."

What _was _with elves and their obsession with lifespan? He could never understand it. It was as though they saw themselves to be gods, when compared to the 'short-lived races', as they were always fond of saying. Hmph. Well, to _him_, they were old. _Real _old. As old as his granny's knickers, _and _his house's cheese supply - blue, mouldy and… really quite tasty. Ooh! with bread.

Whatever. He was never one for idioms.

"Very well, _Dell_. Tell us why you have come."

He frowned. "I've already told you," he protested. "Curiosity. Simple, genuine… _curiosity_," he finished lamely. He suddenly wished he were more eloquent. To, well, basically to live up to the expectation that all mages were bookworms and excellent debaters… like Lady Jaina Proudmoore.

Dell gave a quick glance over his shoulder. The overly-tall troll was crouched there. He gave an inward wince. Though he found the tusked man to be _much_ pleasant to the eye than his malformed cousins, he too was scary. With his calm stance and idle _toying_ with a – by the Light! – _tomahawk_, he resembled that of a predator… and Dell could easily guess who was the prey. Moreover, the plate _armour_! The _weapons_! Need he go on?

He looked back again, and turned away.

Plus, his glowing amber eyes reminded him of a feral beast… and _that _merely added on to the seemingly bloodthirsty aura radiating off him. Dell would have thought of it, as a whole, to be an impressive display – almost alluring, if he were female – had he met them in a different scenario.

Having finished scrutinising one of three, he turned his focus towards the docile tauren.

Hah! Now, _this_ was easier.

She basically looked like a cow – _pun intended _– that would have never hit _anyone _to be a fighter. Rather, someone who would be expected to be seen at maize farms labouring, or in inns as the motherly proprietors who gave an extra pint of butter beer without charge. Mmm, the good old days at Dalaran.

Suffice to say, he thought her unfit for the outside harshness, far from cozy beds and warm fires.

Dell looked at her wooden staff with the utmost doubt.

Was it used for hitting youngsters over the head, or for combat? He guessed he would never know.

"I tire of this."

He snapped back to attention, and found the elven huntress' gaze boring into his.

_Ah_, he had nearly forgotten about _her_.

Similar to the devilishly-handsome Darkspear troll and _completely _unlike the homely hide-wearer, he felt intimidated; not only by her aggressive stance she had positioned herself in, but her expression and gear. Mind whoever – Dell was _not _one to be put off edge easily…

—or at least, that was what his mentor had said to him after a particular bullying case in his childhood.

The – whoever knew just how ancient she was? – huntress had bright silver orbs that too seemed to shine in the dark, flowing hair that reminded him greatly of Tyrande Whisperwind –_this _one was curlier – and sharp teeth, almost fangs, that he had the misfortune to catch sight of, when he lied on the ground.

He warily watched her twirl her melee weapon with nimble fingers, almost as though she were patiently waiting for the exact moment to strike. Hopefully, it wouldn't be _him_. Just from scrutinising bits and pieces of her armour, he figured she was a seasoned warrior - perhaps, _not _a warrior. She had a bow, after all – a _very_ pretty one, at that. In fact, amongst the three that had so rudely enslaved him, she seemed the most calm.

Huh. He would bet that she was a being that took great pride in her abilities, as well as in her race.

_Oh-ho_, if he placed the troll and her alongside one another…

—well! Wouldn't they make a suitable pair! _Really_, why hasn't anyone commended him on his excellent visualising skills?

"I mean it!" he coughed. He could use a heck load of water, at this point. "It was due to curiosity that I followed you and him, in the first place!" he jerked his head towards his interrogator and behind to his... ahem, guard.

"By the Gods," she suddenly pulled back. "I recognise your cough."

"Do you?" he answered doubtfully. How had she managed to do so? He couldn't recollect a moment where he had coughed for her to hear and remember. How awkward would that situation have been?

"Of course I do," she snapped. "You've been on our trail ever since Sen'ji and I arrived in Tanaris!"

"Oh," his own eyes widened, and the edges of his lips pulled downwards. He had nearly died from choking. It wasn't a pleasant memory to revisit. "Well, small world, isn't it?" he offered amiably. Tossing his head back, he laughed. "You have to admit that I'm superb at hiding."

"Until now," was her sarcastic reply, and he faltered.

"I _did _manage to escape," he pointed out. "Once."

"Yes, and you bit my hand in the process," she grimaced, raising it in proud display. "Give me one good reason to not punch you senseless." If her silver eyes could burn brighter than it already was, it would have probably made him blind. "On second thought, even if you did, I'd still knock your teeth out." She had already raised one clenched fist.

Yikes.

"No matter the case," the barma— _tauren _hastily stepped in. "We had sensed you from the early start."

"You did?" said Dell dismally; so much for being elusive and subtle. His dreams had been crushed.

"If what you say is true, that your actions were fuelled by _curiosity_ \- is your interest _that_ strong, to be willing to follow us over such a long distance?"

"Well, I suppose. Else I wouldn't be here."

"I don't buy it," the elf scoffed. She had ceased in entertaining herself with the dagger, and now held it tightly. "It's obvious he's lying."

"Wait!" he hastily said. "It's just_ following_! I didn't do any harm, did I?"

"You didn't, but—"

"It be a risk, little human," the one named 'Sen'ji' finished it for her. She raised one eye, and he shrugged. "No point hidin' it, elf."

"You think I'm part of the _Alliance_?" Dell finished for them, almost laughing at the audacity of such an assumption.

"Aren't ya?"

"Well, no!" he snorted. He then proceeded to tell them of whatever he had thought at the start of their questioning. When he concluded, he triumphantly said, "See? Do you believe me now? Do I _look _like someone that... that evil? To 'report' and 'tell' on you three? I have a good heart!

"You really should take note, that not _all humans are under Varian Wrynn_!"

"Well, _excuse me_," the huntress rolled her eyes. She was the first to recover after several stunned moments. "Even if you aren't," a flicker of uncertainty. "How can you back up your claim?"

"Trust issues," Dell muttered. "Figures. Then again, how am I to show proof in such a... a state?"

Light - any longer and he would probably fall unconscious.

As expected, she drew back, canine teeth flashing. "Do you take us fools?"

"Oh, please. I'm part of the _Kirin Tor_, do _you _take _me_ a fool?"

Silence ensued, before she finally relented.

"Fine, but keep in mind, _mortal_," she leaned closer, and he resisted to urge to squeak. By Merlin's beard! She was _truly_ feral. "One step out of line, and this," she suddenly lowered her volume. "—goes _sliding_ _into_ your throat." With that, she loosened his bonds, and then watched him with an unreadable emotion in her eyes.

As he reached for his back - he was not unaware of the other two edging closer - he cleared his throat.

"I must commend you, though," he told the elf. "To know that you would kill a fellow comrade for your friends."

When he turned back, he thought he had captured a glimpse of sudden complexity written over her features.

"There!" he flashed them the insignia of the most powerful organisation of mages in Azeroth. Then, as quickly as he had shown it, he hurriedly stuffed it back.

They did _not_ need to know he had stolen it.

"So, you truly are part of them?" the tauren confirmed, looking at him with new-found respect - which was greatly appreciated... sort of.

"Not... exactly, my older brother is, but I live with him!" he raised both hands, just as the pointed-eared being took a menacing step towards him. He frowned at her, almost reprimanding. "For a kal'dorei, your temper is vile." All he got back was a scowl, but he sensed she was amused.

Alright, he was wrong.

Not only was she queer - she too was bipolar.

"Do we let 'im go?" Sen'ji cleared his throat, sounding drained. Dell blinked. It was as though the elf and him had swapped roles.

She had opened her mouth to reply, when the sound of skittering drifted over the winds.

"Don't tell me..." the tauren trailed off, looking shocked. "Impossible - all the way...?"

"We don't have time," the night elf turned to him.

"Look, here, mortal—"

"Dell, please."

"Fine. If you manage to take care of those pesky silithids," she raised a hand to silence him. "You'll be free to go - _with _your life attached."

Dell gaped at her, not believing her laziness, but then composed himself.

He could use this to his advantage, after all.

"Fine."

.


	14. Deep Reflections

.

"What are you doing?" she narrowed her eyes at him as he settled upon the sand.

Dell shrugged, looking like the epitome of innocence. "Waiting for the silithids."

Isera stifled a sigh, and turned away. He was a quirky one, if she was to be honest. She would expect that after being treated like a criminal, one would hold a grudge or something. However, he seemed to be fine with it, and what was stranger, even cheerful. She turned back, and quickly shot him a do-something-stupid-and-your-head's-going-on-a-pike glare.

In response, he stuck out his tongue.

Amusement hit her. Alright, she admitted, she had not at all wished to decapitate Dell, no matter what others might have thought. In fact, she hadn't even felt angry. _There_, she _wasn't_ as hot-tempered as people said her to be. She had merely put on a fierce and threatening demeanor to make him spill his intentions. _That_, she learnt over the years of running into suspicious folk.

_Okay... maybe I had wanted to mutilate him after he bit me._

In addition, being over a few thousand years, she could read people's faces better. Inwardly, she knew Dell to be telling the truth. Of course, she still took fun in scaring him.

_Not that I'm sadistic, or anything... his reactions are just out of this world._

"So! What are your names?" Dell suddenly said, standing up and going over to her side. Isera snorted.

The frivolous mage had a messy mane of ginger hair, chiselled features, and an average build. Of course, like most other humans, he was nearly a head shorter than her. He appeared to be the type to cheat and tell tall stories – a swindler. She made a mental note to take note of whatever actions he did. Innocent or not, she did not fully trust anyone whom she was not close with. At this, she guiltily looked away from the group.

All of a sudden, the mage's words came back to her.

_Would I really kill an Alliance member... just for this?_

At once, she shrugged it off. It didn't matter. Not now, anyway. She'd cross the bridge once she came to it.

"You all already know me as Dell Harton," he tried again. "Don't you think I deserve the privilege of knowing the rest of your identities?" he huffed.

"Nairel," the shaman said, brown eyes twinkling. Isera could see that like her, Nairel didn't really mind the mage.

_Unlike the primate over there... _she thought, glancing towards a silent troll.

She was unable to hold back a slight frown. He was unusually silent ever since their first night with Nairel. Almost distant, she would put in. He would seem to only speak when necessary, and most of time when he _did_, it would usually be with his long-time friend. When it was to _her_, it seemed business-like and almost cold.

_Elune, _she gave herself a mental slap. _Why do you care? Heck, you should happy. One less moron to deal with... right?_

However, deep inside her, it still kind of hurt.

"And you, my fair lady?" Dell turned to her, and she raised a brow.

"Smooth-talka, aren't ya?" Sen'ji's deep voice cut in, and Isera was surprised to see him standing in between the two of them. "Ma name be Sen'ji," he continued, gaze hard and unflinching.

_He really doesn't like Dell. _She sighed, then thought about it. _Well, he does have a reason too, I suppose._

"Well, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Sen'ji," Dell stuck out a hand. The warrior looked at it, not moving. Dell continued to stubbornly stick it out, till Sen'ji muttered something beneath his breath, and reluctantly took it. Once more, he said to Isera,

"So? Yours?" he gave her a grin, and it came off to her that he really was...

_—__ a dork_.

"Isera," she returned the smile, deciding that he really wasn't that bad. He reminded her of a child - a silly, foolish one, at that. Dell did the same action of greeting, and she accepted it. However, he suddenly bowed, and gave it a light kiss.

"Does the Kirin Tor teach you to be this polite?" Nairel said, a laugh in her voice.

"Ah, well," Dell gave a bashful shrug. "I was brought up by a self-loving brother who thinks everyone should be sophisticated," he scrunched up his nose, evidently recollecting past events. "Go figure," he beamed brightly at her.

Still surprised by the sudden gesture, Isera unintentionally made eye contact with an equally shocked troll. She couldn't identify the emotion in his eyes, but he abruptly broke away before walking a few steps ahead.

She stared at his back. What was up with him?

_I'm beginning to miss the retarded, arguing side of him, _she clicked her tongue, and decided not to dwell on it.

"Oh, there!" Nairel's voice cut into her thoughts, and simultaneously, the other three turned in the direction where she was pointing. True enough, several black figures could be made out, and skittering could be heard; becoming louder with each passing second.

"Right," Isera gripped her bow. "Lets—"

"_HIIIII-YAAAAAAHHHHHH!_"

"—get to it, then," she finished wearily, watching Dell run forward, screaming and raising his staff in the air.

"What in Mother Earth's name is he doing?" Nairel cried, eyes wide. She made no attempt to run after him, though. Who would?

"Leave 'im be," Sen'ji growled. "If he want ta die, den let 'im die." Though he said so, Isera noticed him moving forward by an inch.

"_HYAA-HYAA! HYAA-HYAA!_" Dell's high-pitched shouts travelled the wind, and Isera shook her head in disbelief. Anxiety spiked in her.

"He's going to attract the entire population of Thousand Needles at this rate!" she groaned.

_Please, Cenarius, call upon your mighty powers and snap his neck for me._

"Should we help?" Nairel asked.

"What do you think?" she sighed, breaking into a sprint. As they neared, bright orange flares shone into their eyes.

"_FIREBALL," _Dell squealed, throwing it into a silithid's screeching face. He turned._ "FIREBALL!" _Another one down. "_FIRE-FIRE-FIREBALL_!" he concluded triumphantly as the third insect skittered several yards, letting out horrid cries as the flames licked and burned._  
_

"Wait!" Isera held Sen'ji and Nairel back. The strength applied to their stomachs was unexpected, and both staggered back.

Three more rushed forward, but Dell jumped back.

"_KYAAAAA_!" he let out a battle-cry, swinging his staff around him. The outward pole smacked the silithids in the face, and they reared back, hissing and spitting. He smirked, and suddenly, the creatures were trapped in blocks of ice. The ice encased their many legs, and in fury, they struggled vigorously to no avail.

"...and, _boom_," he made an exploding action with one hand, and at the same moment, the ice shattered, taking the legs with it. Fragments of frozen water and insect flesh splattered about. The now-limbless monsters weakly screeched, yet they could not move. Black blood began to pool.

"_Unbelievable_," Isera brought a palm to her forehead, and strode over. A speechless Nairel and Sen'ji followed.

"You guys saw it, huh?" he crowed, gesturing all about him where six bodies lay; some twitching, some motionless.

They did not reply, too busy gawking at him.

"...Kirin Tor, indeed," Nairel finally said.

"Not only that," Isera grumbled. She took a closer look at him. For an instant, she caught a glimpse of his capability.

_Never judge a book by its cover._

"Is that the way you charge into battle? You could have gone for ranged attacks, you cretin. Imagine if you had been clawed due to your proximity!"

"Aw, are you worried for me?" Dell laughed again. She was able to whack him over the head, but he continued. "It's fine - it's how I always fight, you know."

"Screamin' like a little girl?" Sen'ji suddenly snorted in laughter. "I 'ave ta say, mon, dat be some skills."

Isera stared at him in _double _disbelief. How quickly he had changed sides.

_Is this how trolls bond? Through battles? _she wondered stonily. _Or, who can fight in the most ridiculous manner possible?_

"Thank you," the mage replied, not sounding humble in the least. Suddenly, he jabbed a finger at them. "—but, couldn't you all have helped a little?" he whined. "What if I had been injured?"

"Well, who asked you to leap into the fray without us?" the elven huntress pointed out flatly. She waved her hands. "Whatever it is, they have been taken care of. You can leave, now. Just, don't go around telling others that you met a traitorous group, alright?"

"Oh - right, the agreement," Dell blinked. "Well, okay." However, he did not budge, even as the rest began to make their way back to camp.

He brought both hands to his mouth, cupped it, and hollered,

"_Can I join you pleasant folk?_"

.

...

.

"He's still following us, isn't he?" Nairel confirmed as they rode their mounts. The sun was blazing down at them, and they certainly felt the disadvantages of the heat. Beads of sweat dribbled down Isera's temples, and she gritted her teeth. Tenma lied across her lap - too exhausted to walk on his own.

"He definitely is," she nodded, exasperated.

"Impressive, he doesn't seem to give up. Even when we've told him 'no' countless of times."

Sen'ji glanced over his shoulders. It was as the elf had said - far in the distance, a faint speckle of colour could be seen; he was riding upon a horse. He blinked, and turned back to face the seemingly endless array of sand. His raptor let out a soft call, apparently thinking the same thing.

He patted the massive beast's neck. "I know it be hot, mon," he chuckled; the idea of lush trees sheltering them was being entertained. As the two females conversed, he found himself looking at the blue-haired hunter.

He hadn't meant to distance himself from her. It was necessary. Sometimes, he wondered if his actions were a bit ridiculous and mean. He had noticed her glancing at him several times, confusion clear at his sudden change of attitude.

.

.

_At her unanticipated smile, she was greeted in Orcish in a surprised, almost horrified tone._

"_What are you smiling for_?"_ he narrowed his eyes at Nairel suspiciously._

_"This reminds me of a time we had," she replied, reverting to Orcish herself. She was still grinning. "Remember the camping trip we had in the jungles of Stranglethorn?"_

_"Yea, what about it?" he questioned, not knowing where she was going with it. That event had been several years ago. They were doing quests with several other friends, and had ended up getting lost. In the end, they decided to wait the night, and find their way out in the morning._

_"Oh, you don't seem to be aware of it," Nairel looked surprised. "Well, you needed the—"_

_"Shut up!" Sen'ji interrupted, realising what she meant. "Don't speak of it - it's voodoo!" he snapped, feeling his cheeks warm at the embarrassing memory._

_Loa, whatever demon had possessed her to bring that up? he thought in near-despair._

_"Just sharing past happenings, Sen'ji," she chuckled, patting his shoulder in a comforting way._

_He scowled at her, not feeling the intended effects._

_"You know," Nairel continued, not paying heed to his expression. "You've changed quite a bit." This got his attention._

_"What do you mean?" he probed grudgingly. He told himself if she spoke of another moment, he would gag her and feed her to Sen'ji Jr._

_"You've become more..." she frowned, thoughtful. "Ah, yes, livelier."_

_She turned to face him. "Isera seems to have quite an effect on you," she teased. His own eyes widened, and he unconsciously drew back by a millimetre._

_"Wh—What?" he broke into nervous laughter. "Dat be nonsense, mon," he attempted to draw the conversation into another, less-sensitive direction._

_"See?" the edges of her lips pulled apart wider. "You're speaking in Common, again! Tell me, do you like her?" Before he could reply, her countenance darkened. "If you do, I'd understand. She's a sweet girl," she looked off into the night. "__—bu__t, Sen'ji, just be aware of the consequences it would bring - should you ever fall for her."_

_Sen'ji did not answer. No, he didn't like the little elf, he was sure of it. He furrowed his nonexistent brows._

_For the remainder of the time Isera was gone, the two remained in companionable silence - each lost in their own thoughts. It was only when the silhouette of an elf appear did Nairel tap his shoulder._

_"Waddya—" he broke off. Nairel wiggled her brows, and he held back a string of curses. To his displeasure, he could feel the blood rushing up his face again. Especially at the elf's searching gaze and Nairel's smugness._

_In his head, he swore relentlessly._

.

.

Sen'ji held back a shudder. What a night that had been.

Ever since then, he had thought more about the Kal'dorei. They proclaimed themselves to be Children of the Moon Goddess - Elune. So and so forth. He had gone through whatever facts he knew of the mysterious, reclusive race.

When the skirmish against the first group of silithids ended, and they were travelling upon sand, he had unexpectedly refreshed one particular thing long buried in his mind.

The Tale.

It was an old folk-lore that circulated in his village for many centuries. The older generation never failed to pass it on to the younger line. Upon this unfavourable, shocking, even horrifying, reminder, Sen'ji had instantly come to the decision of separating himself from the huntress - no matter how kind and unique she was. He would not risk his safety - that was certain.

It wasn't just the Tale that spurred such a choice; there had been other, non-disclosed reasons to justify his actions.

Okay... well...

_That_ part was a lie.

He knew the Tale was false; nothing more than words to intentionally spite the pointy-eared beings.

It was just Nairel. She was right; it would be a risk. An _extremely _risky, problematic thing it could turn out to be.

He had went to try to make himself feel better by apparently having more... reliable reasons?

He looked over to where his two companions were still exchanging words, something about nature and its natural wonders.

Tenma cracked open one eye, and gave a rumbling purr as though he was aware.

He winced.

_Sorry, elfie._

.


	15. Dell Harton

.

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No!"

"Oh, come on! Have a heart, will you?"

"_No_!" Isera wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She glared at a pig-headed Dell.

"I don't get it - why not?" he asked, defiant. He had a determined glint in his green eyes, and wasn't about to budge. "There's no reason for you to reject me."

"There's no reason for you to join us," she retorted.

"Sure there is," he instantly replied.

"Oh? What is it then?" she sniffed.

_Headstrong mortal..._

"I'm lonely."

_For the love of Elune!_

"Don't you have friends or something?" she folded her arms. "Or don't you have anything to do in Dalaran?"

"Well... I _do_ have friends," Dell shrugged. "—but they're always busy with their studies. Besides, you guys seem more fun to be around with."

"Why don't you join them?"

"Ah... they don't _exactly_ want me around them," he scratched the back of his head.

"_Dat's _a wonda..." Sen'ji snorted.

"I'm fantastic company - you'll never get bored of me," he grinned. "I cross my heart."

"However," Nairel frowned. "We don't exactly have a use for you..."

"Sure you do!" Dell waved one hand, nonchalant. He began to count with his fingers. "I can conjure food; your tummies will never rumble in years to come," he elaborated cheerfully. "I can provide portals; it sure saves a lot of time and money, too!" he looked to them in high hopes.

"That's just for convenience's sake," Isera clicked her tongue. "In addition, one more person to our group brings more trouble than is needed!" Sure, even though Dell's words did make sense, and were rather appealing to the ears, it wasn't a necessity to have. Besides...

_He's not really the ideal travel buddy... _she told herself. She had a foreboding of trouble, already.

Upon hearing this, Dell puffed out his chest, affronted. "I'll have you know," he huffed. "I am a _great _storyteller." She arched an eye at him.

"No."

"He _does _have a point, you know," Nairel pointed out slowly, mien thoughtful. "It'll be of great advantage to us." Sen'ji echoed after.

"Ya, mon," he agreed, fingers absentmindedly drumming Sen'ji Jr's flank.

Despite somewhat acknowledging their explanation, Isera opened her mouth to protest, when she felt a prod to her leg. Looking down, she was greeted by the sight of a green tortoise.

"What in Cenarius—" Two large reptilian eyes stared up at her, pleading and plain devious.

_You have got to kidding me... _she thought, incredulous.

She gave the newly-metamorphosed Dell a light nudge with the tip of her foot. In response, he toppled over on his back, four legs sticking up and flailing. The raptor and Tenma came closer, sniffing him curiously. In a blink of an eye, a sheep now took its place.

She stared at the glassy eyes that appeared to be bigger than its last pair. Finally, she relented.

"Fine."

_Oh, by the Gods, am I such a softie?_ The image of a lone Dell - shivering and wandering aimlessly, nearly made her feel sympathy. Nearly.

Next thing she knew, she was being squashed by two arms.

"You won't regret this!" Dell released her. He pulled the three together, and placed a hand on Nariel's shoulder. "So! Where are we headed? I'll take care of any baddies."

Isera let out a sigh, force-reminding herself of Dell's self-proclaimed 'usefulness'.

As they all began to ride again, she thought how nothing seemed to be going as originally planned.

.

...

.

They had been travelling for a while, nearing the exit of the sandy area of Thousand Needles, when one of them realised something. She called for the group to halt, and as they all looked to her in curiosity and surprise, she gestured to Dell.

"Why don't Dell attempt to teleport us?" Nairel said, before facing the shock-ridden mage. "You _did _say you could open portals and all, yes? Perhaps you could try to transmit us to a different point? It'd save us quite a bit of trouble, and we wouldn't have to avoid and overcome several obstacles," she alluded to the hostile beasts and people in the area.

"That's right," Dell gave a laugh, radiating confidence. As the rest dismounted and gathered about, he coughed. "If you all would hold hands and close your eyes..."

"Dis ain't a ritual, human," Sen'ji rolled his eyes.

"Hey! How would _you _know that?" he flung at him. The warrior tilted his head, and Dell gave a sheepish grin. "Ah, right. You're a troll. Don't hex me." He regained his composure. "Still, if we do it this way, it'd make it easier for me to cast the spell," he explained, seemingly self-assured.

Isera exchanged glances with Nairel, before assenting to the ridiculous-sounding request. No point questioning his instructions - they themselves weren't mages. Sen'ji blinked, and appeared reluctant. Isera, who stood beside him, stuck out a hand.

"Stop acting like a child," she chided, feeling rather annoyed. Sen'ji growled softly, but took hold of her hand. His own was smooth, much to Isera's surprise, and significantly larger than hers; covering most of her fist. His grip was - again, quite unlike the elf's expectations - gentle.

_Guess not all trolls are violent bastards..._

"Right!" Dell rubbed his palms together. "I can feel my palms tingling! Where do you all want me to bring us?"

"Hm," Isera thought for a moment. They were supposed to head to Rachet - there was their answer. "Rachet, in the Barrens, or anyway near there," she replied, shrugging.

"O-kay," he nodded excitedly. He gave a peep behind. "They're coming with us, too, right?" he pointed, unsure, to the animals.

"Of course!" Nairel laughed. "We can't leave them with our belongings."

"Makes sense. Now, let's begin!" he shut his own eyes, and positioned himself as though he were praying. "_Arcane magic, arcane magic, fly and come! Bring us, lowly servants of thy awesome power, to... Rachet in... urm... the Barrens!_" he raised his arms, palms facing outward.

_Is this going to work? _Isera held back from voicing. _His manner of casting is dubious enough._

She was not expecting it, but a sudden warmth enveloped her, and a bright flash nearly severed her eyesight.

"We're here!" Dell cried in success. She opened one eye, and gaped.

"Where in Elune's name are we?" she demanded, glaring towards the triumphant fool.

"What? We're in Ratchet, aren't we?" he frowned.

"No, we're not..." Nairel was just as taken aback.

"Of course we're not," Isera groaned.

"_Why are we in Darkshore_?"

"Oh! I must have made a slip somewhere..." Dell swallowed. "You see, we have to envision the place, and I may have... lost focus at the last minute." At Sen'ji's death threat, he hurriedly tried to amend his mistake. "It's nothing to worry about! I'll bring us out of here."

He cleared his throat. "_Arcane magic, arcane magic, fly and come! Bring us, lowly servants of thy mighty will, to Rachet_!"

Another bright flash.

"Here? I bet we—

"_OH MY GOD - BY THE LIGHT_!" Dell interrupted himself, shouting at the sight of a monstrous black spider hissing.

"By Malorne's goatee!" Isera yelled, shooting it. "Dell, you egg-shelled, incapable—!"

"Malorne has a goatee?"

"Get us out of here!" Nairel urged. "There's more coming!"

"Okay, okay - I got this under cover. _Arcane magic, arcane magic_—"

"Shuddup an' hurry before I stab ya!"

"Don't rush the practice! It may jeopardise it!"

"Ya be jeopardisin' owa_ lives_!"

Flash.

"No, not here either?"

Nairel cursed, which was unlike her character. "There's centaurs here!"

"They're gonna shoot!"

"_By Loa__—_!"

"You!" Isera grabbed the caster's collar.

Flash!

Silence descended upon them, as they studied their surroundings.

"_We're back where we started_!"

"Eh?" Dell choked. "That can't be! Oh, you're right," he chortled.

"Forget it!" Isera stomped to her saber, who appeared confused at the many changes of scenery. "We'll go there on foot."

The tauren and troll, both not in the best mood, went over to their own rides. Dell regarded them, before jumping onto his horse.

As they grumpily set off, he cried to them in an optimistic tone,

"It's okay! I promise I'll get better!"

.


	16. Halloween Special

.

A gentle gust of wind blew about, its soft whistles urging its fellow inhabitants of Nature to dance and sway in melodic synchronisation. Convection waves sent shivers down whatever explorers in the area, and far off in the distance, a lone wolf howled.

Blades of grass curled and trembled, sweating drops of crystal-clear pearls to be absorbed eagerly by the damp soil beneath. The air smelt wet and of rain; the place dark and menacing, its trees creaked and groaned.

The two moons were waxing; shimmering silver circles softly glowing on a deep blue background of glittering stars, floating lights...

—and suffocating smoke.

"Dell Harton!" Isera coughed, fanning her face and turning to the side. "Put out that fire, for my sake and yours!" she grimaced, shielding herself from the tearing particles that threatened to sting her eyes.

"It's cold!" the young mage retorted. He leaned forward, stretching both hands, palms outwards. As he soaked in the warmth, he let out a satisfied sigh. "That feels good."

"It isn't wise to just start a flame in such a place," Nairel frowned, warily turning her head from side to side, as though on the watch for any possible predators. She clutched her staff tightly.

"Ya mon," Sen'ji wrinkled his nose, amber eyes seeming to glow even fiercer in the presence of likewise illumination. "I dun fancy anyding runnin' tawards us wit' da claws an' all," he grumbled.

"Oh, relax," the human waved a hand nonchalantly. "Anything that comes forward, we can flatten in two seconds."

"Let's just get some rest," Nairel resisted yawning. "We have a long journey ahead of us, tomorrow."

"Already?" he looked at them in dismay. "It's not even midnight."

"Yes, well, they don't have expendable energy as you do," Isera pointed out. "Now shut it before _I _flatten you." She crushed a whole raw nut, and sprinkled it casually over the ground.

"Now, wait a second, Destroyer of Nuts—"

"What? Do you wish for a live execution of _your_ nuts to—"

Dell raised a hand, a deep crease in his forehead. "While you people choose to live such sad, dull lives," he abruptly snorted. "_I_ have a _great_ idea...

_"Let's exchange ghostly tales!"_

"Ridiculous," the huntress immediately disagreed. However, her silver orbs dimmed for a second, before she continued. "We have no time for such matters. Nairel and Sen'ji need their sleep._You _need your sleep, as well."

"Come on! It's nearing Hallow's End, and we're nowhere near any neutral city to celebrate! Might as well hold a little party of our own, no?" When no one replied, he smiled. "Please? I can see you all are rather interested. Let's just give this a go."

"Well..." Nairel looked at him thoughtfully. She was usually the one that treated him the most civil. "It _does _seem to be quite a nice idea, actually."

"Really?" Isera blinked, keeping her incredulous tone in check. However, already she felt herself relenting to Dell's ingenious - if not half-brained - proposal. After all, she too liked a good ol' chill down the spine. "I... guess. It _has _been a while since I've sat down and done this."

"Excellent," the male sorcerer gave the troll a probing look. Sen'ji shrugged.

"I suppose so."

"Great! Let us jump straight into it, then."

.

...

.

_Okay. Here's a good one._

Once upon a time—

_Like we've all never heard that one before..._

—there was a young human child by the name of Frankline Summerton, who was a farmer's daughter by the outskirts of Goldshire, with long golden locks and bright eyes the colour of the sky.

One typical night, she stayed out from playing too long. By the time she got to the porch, it was at the stroke of midnight. Everything was dark about her, and slightly put-off, she entered the house.

The interior was even gloomier than outside, save for a small candle burning away on the mantelpiece. Her parents were nowhere to be seen, despite her entering all the rooms.

_How brave._

Frankline came back out onto the steps, and stared far and hard in the shadowy distance. Suddenly, perhaps some trick of the moonlight, she thought she saw two faint figures within the trees. She assumed them to be her parents, and was about to chase after them...

—when she heard a giggle.

_Da chills! Loa protect meh!_

_Shh!_

It was high and shrill, and Frankline felt terrified. She knew that sound to not be that of anyone she knew. She was tense and readied to retreat in, when abruptly, tapping sounded on the window by her right.

She turned slowly...

—and was met with the stretched-out, grinning skin of her mother and father.

.

...

.

"Is that it?" Isera folded her arms, amused.

"What? It's a brilliant story!" Dell defended. "I came up with it on the spot!"

"I can do much better," she rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh? Prove it."

"Very well."

.

...

.

It was a cold, breezy night.

_That opening's even worse than mine._

There was a night-elven child by the name of Isolde. She was in the forest of Ashenvale, playing by herself. Everything was tranquil and peaceful, with bright beams of moonlight lighting her surroundings.

All of a sudden, she heard a soft, melodious female voice sing, "_Isolde__…"_  
Isolde was surprised, she spun around, but saw no one.

Preparing to turn back, she then saw her.

_What? Elune standing there with open arms?_

A woman. A lady in white.

Long black hair obscured her features, but her stature resembled that of a fellow kal'dorei. Isolde grew curious, and decided to draw closer. She tentatively took a step forward; all the while the woman sang, "_Isolde_..."

Her voice changed, deepening into a scathing, grating voice. At the lady's feet, blood began to pool.

At that moment, rustling sounded from behind, and Isolde whipped her head back. She squinted, but nothing could be seen. Frowning, she hesitantly turned back around.

The distance had been closed…

—and the lady had no face, with blood streaming down from where her eye sockets would have been.

.

...

.

"Oh, geez!" Dell made a face of disgust. He rubbed both hands together.

"Scared?" Isera taunted smugly.

"No way," he huffed. He hugged himself tightly. "The weather's being a pain in the bum." He blinked, and sniffed. "Sen'ji – your turn."

"Da storiehs I know be kind of lame," the troll shrugged. "But if ya insist…"

.

…

.

I was having a shower one particular morning, and was preparing to step out, when I realised I had no cloth for drying.

_I can't understand him._

_He's speaking in Orcish. I'll translate it later._

I drew the curtains aside, when I heard footsteps down the hall. Realising it was my housemate, I called out, "Rathiel, could me hand me a towel?"

Silence answered, and I stuck my hand out. Then, I felt the familiar feel of soft fabric on my palm. "Thanks," I answered. As I dried myself, I heard him close his door.

Afterwards, as I lay on the couch, the front door swung open, and a familiar blood elf stepped in.

"Weren't you in your room?" I asked, surprised.

"No," he replied, confused. "I was at the vendor's. No one else was home but you."

Hearing that, my blood ran cold.

.

…

.

"Not bad," Dell nodded. Sen'ji waved a hand dismissingly.

"Ma storieh be nothin' compared ta Nairel's," he chuckled.

"Is that so?" Isera leaned forward interestedly. "Do share."

"Definitely," the tauren laughed.

.

…

.

I was in the forest of Duskwood. I had lost my way, and judging from the two moons above, it was nearing the final stroke of midnight.

Panic began to engulf me – I needed to find my way home. Fast. As I wandered aimlessly with a certain sense of determination, something in the distance caught my attention.

It seemed to be a faint outline of a figure. Strangely, as I strained my eyes to get a clearer view, I found its height to be inconsistent.

Up, down, up, down.

My eyes widened as I finally understood that the thing – whatever it was – was _hopping_.

I was alarmed, but growing curiosity overtook my better judgement.

It was then I noticed its two arms were outstretched perpendicularly in front of it. Uneasiness hit me, yet I stubbornly stood firm and did not glance elsewhere.

"_Young man_..." I heard it call in a distorted, drawling voice.

"_Young man…_" It was drawing closer, now.

I froze, as its features became more distinct.

Pale, yellowish skin illuminated by whatever light that was able to shine through the canopy above, wispy grey hair with dry skin flaking off with every movement; it resembled that of a rotting corpse. Its dislocated jaw hung loose, its belly distended and its head twisted in an odd angle.

It was then my instincts took over, and I made a break for it from whatever that _thing _was.

"_Young man_…" it wailed, sounding louder for a split second.

I sped up, with beads of cold sweat beginning to trickle down my temples.

"_Young man_…" it was softer, now.

As I continued to sprint down, the calls grew fainter and fainter. Until at last, I could hear it no more.

My breath was haggled, and I felt a stitch in my side.

I bent over, panting and heaving for air. However, I was relieved.

"_Young man_…"

No.

"_Young man_… _Young man_…"

It couldn't be.

I shook my head, attempting to clear my mind.

Thudding could be heard behind, speeding up rapidly with every second and getting heavier with every jump.

"_YoungmanyoungmanYOUNGMA_—"

.

…

.

"Okay! I think we're done!" Dell shot up, grinning somewhat uneasily. "It was brilliant sharing stories and bonding together, but, urm, good night!"

"Truly?" Isera narrowed her eyes, watching as he stumbled over his footing. "I thought you were excited about this."

"Of course," he snorted. "—but, uh, it's late. After all the fiasco we've been through today, I could really use some sleep."

Nairel and Isera exchanged amused looks, but did not press further.

"Alright then," the elf nodded. As they dispersed to their individual sites, Dell whispered to Sen'ji,

"Hey! Sen'ji, urm, what do you say about being sleep buddies for tonight?"

In response, the warrior raised an invisible brow. "Wad fer? Yer scared, mon?" he smirked.

At this, the mage straightened and puffed out his chest. "_ME_? _Scared? HAH_!" he placed both hands on his hips. Marching off to his own area some paces away, he scoffed, "The almighty Dell? You jest!"

He bundled himself in his blanket, and squeezed his eyes shut. Then, a faint tickle on his arm caused him to snap them open once more.

_"...AIEEEEEEEEEEEE_!"

.

.

**I'm sorry if it failed to send shivers down your spine.  
I suck at horror stories, and the person who I worked with isn't all that good, either. Heh.**

**All in all, this proves that I am back after quite a while.  
Hopefully the next update will be released soon. No promises, though.**

**Happy Hallow's End!**

.


	17. The Sundering

.

"Oh, for the glorious light of Elune," Isera snarled, ducking to avoid being pummelled in the face by a very angry, spitting wind serpent. It wasn't too big, about 5 feet tall in length, though it certainly was vicious. She kicked it in the face, causing it to be dazed, thus giving her sufficient time to behead it.

"How did we even get into such a situation?" Dell threw a flaming ball of fire towards another serpent who was about to strike with its pointed fangs. Hissing, it reared back in agony, significantly injured as the magical flames licked through its scales. It was burnt alive, and was soon a charred carcass.

"We had no—" Nairel broke off, just as another of those confounded creatures darted forward, ready to use its thunder breath. "—other option!" It was, sadly, true. Freewind Post was an area claimed by the Horde, and proved too risky to even be several yards away from it. Hence, they had no other way but to take the path through Windbreak Canyon.

"Move!" Sen'ji growled, forcefully pushing Isera to the side. That action narrowly caused her neck to be spared by an ambushing reptile from the back. "Don't ya 'ave enough experience ta know someding was behind ya?" he buried the edges of his weapon into the neck of the snake. Screeching, it fell to the rough terrain, twitching but very much dead.

Isera did not reply, though annoyance to shoot back a remark pricked at her. Firing an arrow into the eye socket of another enemy, she bit out another curse at yet another wave.

This went on for several more minutes, until at last, the last one dropped onto the ground with a hoarse cry. More than two whole groups of carcasses laid about them. Nairel wrinkled her nose as she eyed them.

"Good riddance," Dell rolled his eyes. "How many were there?" he bent over, before smelling the blood and recoiling in disgust.

"Should we destroy the nests and eggs, too?" he suggested, looking at a three large eggs nestled above them.

"No," Isera shook her head. "We shouldn't kill more than what is necessary."

"Yes," Nairel agreed. "Let's just get a move on before the rest are attracted to the scent of all this blood."

.

...

.

"Ratchet really is rather far away," Dell noted forlornly, as they rode atop their respective mounts. They were keeping to the sides of the mountains as close as they could, and all felt the blazing heat searing down upon them. "I wish there were neutral flight masters around here," he said, his usual cheerful disposition had surprisingly disintegrated. The long journey was taking its toll on him.

"I do, too," Nairel voiced out, sounding drained. Engaging in combat and being tense was a frequent thing now, what with the many dangers lurking about. It was exhausting. Her kodo grunted, as though relating to her words.

"We'll just have to cover as much distance as we can," Isera sighed. "Time is on our side, but it's best to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Ya, mon," Sen'ji looked about him warily atop his raptor. "I be suspectin' dat Freewind Post be postin' sentries about ta scout fer enemies." Freewind Post was a town mostly inhabited by Horde-aligned Tauren, though there too were several orcs stationed there.

At this, the young mage groaned, burying his head into the neck of his horse.

"I'll move ahead," Isera stated. "We may be nearing Splithoof Crag, and I want to ensure we don't intrude onto their paths." None of them objected - they knew her to be the most experienced in trekking and exploring.

As she rode in front of them, and the voices and chatter of her friends grew fainter and fainter, she resisted the urge to halt. Day was not the ideal time for travel; she would need to rest soon.

She felt a gentle bump to her leg, and looked down to see Tenma purring up at her.

"Thanks, buddy," she smiled, accepting the small act of comfort.

All of a sudden, she heard something several distances away. It was harsh, grating and seemed to come from nails screeching against one another. In a matter of seconds, she was now tense and awake, listening and all ready to either fight, or run. Nothing could be seen; thank goodness for her acute hearing.

As the noises drew closer and became louder, she found herself unable to understand any of the gibberish that entered her ears. It sounded familiar, though; somehow the syllabus drawn from the unseen throats seemed to strike a chord within her...

Her eyes widened in realisation.

Horde.

They were speaking Orcish.

_Shit_.

She yanked the reins back, and the cat growled softly. Tenma bared his teeth, though he made not a sound. Isera glanced over her shoulders - she had travelled before the group in great paces, it would take a while before they would reach.

No time for that, though.

Grimacing, she pulled over closer to the sides, hoping to remain undetected. Going back would risk her being caught, and going forward was only going to cause more trouble and place her in greater risks. She could only hope for the safety of jagged rocks to shelter her and keep her sufficiently hidden.

No such luck.

The unexpected shouting in her direction was enough to tell her that she had been seen. Refraining from cursing, and restraining herself to just go ahead and shoot two arrows into each of their necks, she urged her party to dash off to the abrupt right. She had no time to think of where she was headed, she only knew that leading them to the rest would be suicidal.

As the three swerved to avoid a narrow collision one of the tall, rocky structures, the yelling became stronger and livelier. As expected, frantic steps of their rides could be heard pattering away. Isera bit her lip – the fact that Thousand Needles was quite the open area, with little to cover them, was both infuriating and depressing.

They didn't stop moving forward, till Isera hastily yanked the reins to the left – Freewind Post could be seen in the near distance atop a high mesa. She had gone too much west. Several figures lifted their heads from above at the sudden commotion, and their shocked expressions when looking down were all she needed to guess that they had seen her, as well.

"Elune help me," she muttered beneath her breath, jerking to right after a few more moments of going left. More footsteps had joined the fun from behind, now – along with the clattering of armour and other bits that clearly proved they were preparing to have her head. Clenching her bow that laid on her lap, she forced herself to release her grip.

It would prove fatal to attempt to take them on, now. Though confident in her fighting abilities, she was no fool to charge in head-on into a whole group of battle-armoured, bloodthirsty Horde at her heels.

An arrow whistled past her ear.

Spitting vulgarities aloud, she pressed herself lower to the cat's back as it increased its speed. Tenma had no trouble keeping up, he had undergone much training.

As another arrow missed her head, she threw a swift glance over her shoulder.

There were about two or three orcs atop snarling, snapping wolves, and four to five tauren riding massive, stomping kodos. They were a considerable distance from her. They were fast in their pursuit, she had to give them that. Then, she took notice of the orc that had shot the arrow, and her eyes gleamed.

In a split second, she was sitting upright, twisted to the side and prepped to kill. Already she had locked her aim onto the battle-crying green-skin, and holding back a smirk at his amateurish show of courage, released the silver-tipped ammo. It embedded itself into the one spot unprotected by the mail chestplate, and blood spewed forth from the deep wound.

Wailing in garbled tones, he fell choking from his mount, and landed face-down. The squelching sound of the arrow piercing further through his neck could be heard, and Isera smiled at the sight of impalement.

"_Lok-Narash_!" one yelled, and she figured they were now enraged.

She had not heard or seen it coming, when the larger cat of the two let out a roar filled with pain and anger.

In a flash, she was off the saddle and onto the hard ground.

Shocked, she scrambled back up and without turning back, ran forward on her own.

_No use, I'm on foot, they're on animals._

She spun back, and released two more arrows aimed towards the front feet of a heaving wolf. Now half-crippled, it toppled, its heavy weight crushing its own rider. Swiftly reloading, she shot another into the eye socket of a grey kodo. It let out a great call of distress, and blinded, wildly swung about, ignoring the attempted placating of its frightened owner.

Successfully distracting the rest for a moment, her eyes turned to the saber. It lay motionless, though it shuddered with the painful notion of breathing. Her eyes widened at the sight of two gunshots at its hind legs, where blood was now trickling from the open wounds.

_Oh, light…_

Then, a great rush of wind bellowed, and in an instant, she felt a great force heave her from the ground…

—and onto the back of a brightly-coloured hawkstrider.

.

…

.

"What's taking her so long?" Dell asked, looking around them. "It's been minutes, and she hasn't reported back." They all had got off their mounts, and were taking a brief stop. By their logic, it wasn't wise to continue moving forward without any confirmation of where they were headed. They had no map, only an elven tracker to guide their steps.

"Should I go out and check?" Nairel offered, already getting up from her position. They were resting beneath the shelter of a rock-formed 'cave'. "Maybe she's already on her way back."

"Or maybe she ran into some trouble," Dell narrowed his eyes, green orbs flashing. "This place is stuffed with them. We _all _should go out together, to be on the safe side," he said, brushing the dirt off his robes as he stood up. Nairel watched him, her expression unreadable, though Sen'ji was outright smirking.

"Became wise, didn't ya?" he chuckled, following suit.

They had not gone far, when sudden clamouring caught their attention. Any conversation ceased, and their heads whipped up, and though it was far, they caught a glimpse of a familiar blue-haired elf atop a massive saber, followed by a lean long-toothed cat. The trio abruptly vanished from their sight, and then, they saw two orcs hot on their trail, tagged along by a mix of that and tauren.

"Medivh!" Dell cried. "She must have run into a patrol!"

Without saying anything else, the group went after the hunt.

.

…

.

"Oh, dear no," Nairel winced from afar.

They were silent, watching the group of Horde scatter about and surround the injured cat from behind rocks.

Tenma was on the other side, struggling and growling beneath a thick net.

It was a mess, and Isera was nowhere to be seen.

.


	18. Roads Diverged

.

Isera's head was spinning. Her vision was a dark black of nothingness, for her eyes were squeezed shut, in a frail attempt to numb the pain at the back of her head. She felt dizzy and exhausted. Holding back a groan, she slowly pushed herself upright and took the sides of her head into her hands.

What had happened? She had gotten into a scuffle… the saber was shot at… and…

Someone had grabbed her.

It was as though that small recollection was a wake-up call. She was now fully awake, tense and to an extent, fearful. She had no energy to continue fighting, if her supposed benefactor proved to be another threat. Wincing as she attempted to get up, she sat back down, muttering and rubbing her temples.

After several seconds, she realised she was in a different location, an unfamiliar environment. She blinked in confusion, gazing about her.

_A cave_, she thought, surprised. Then, her forehead creased. _But how?_

"You're awake?"

Isera's head snapped to the right, where her keen eyesight managed to pick out a shadow-engulfed figure seated by the corner. She stared, unable to find the words to reply. This felt like déjà vu, if she was to be completely honest… just that, this time, she wasn't bound.

The voice speaking to her in Darnassian was strange though, it had a slight accent, but other than that, was flawless and seemed to be spoken with fluency.

"…Yes," she finally replied, sounding groggy and weak. As soon as she said that, the figure got up with grace, and though Isera felt a slight sense of panic, she somehow knew that this person was no threat. The figure took a step forward, and now lighted better, the huntress saw her for who she was.

A sin'dorei.

She had the typical slender figure of her people, though Isera could see she was muscular beneath her slim-fitting leather armour. The lower half of her face was obscured by a black bandana, yet her eyes were round and glowed a fel green. A short bob of almost-white blonde hair framed her small face.

_Another member of the Horde_, she thought, almost in disbelief. _A rogue too, at that._

"I must apologise for your current state," the blood elf blinked, sounding almost apologetic. Almost. " I'd figured that you wouldn't allow yourself to be taken away by a Horde, so I had no choice but to render you unconscious."

"Is that why my neck hurts?"

"Indeed," she replied, the edges of her eyes barely crinkling, but it did. "I had to hit certain pressure points; again, I am sorry," she shrugged. "You should feel better in a while," she added more warmly. Now standing directly in front of her, she settled herself back down, but not before giving the area a cautious scan.

"Where are we?" Isera asked, beginning to feel worried.

"I brought us through Splithoof Crag, and into their stronghold. No matter, I cleared out enough of the centaurs to ensure our relative safety," the rogue nodded. "Best we keep our volume low, though."

"Hang on," Isera decided to address her suspicion. "You're a Horde. Why would you rescue me from your own faction?"

In an instant, the blood elf's demeanour changed. She pulled off her bandana, and smirked. "The Children of the Blood have no loyalty to anyone but our Regent Lord. We merely joined forces with the rancid orcs to solidify our power and strength. We do not care much for them, at all," she sneered, but it soon faded. "However, though we mostly leave them alone to their own matters, I thought it inhumane to allow you to be butchered. I've always felt a sense of kindred with the Kal'dorei." She shrugged, hugging her knees to her chest.

Isera watched her, taken aback. "I… Well, thank you," she knew not what else to say. It was not often one would come into a situation such as this. "May I… know your name, cousin?" she figured it wouldn't hurt to be civil back. It didn't seem as though her saviour was going to do her any harm.

The blonde looked up, and gave a small smile, albeit stonily. "Alluris," she said simply.

"Isera," the night elf responded. "I am… grateful, Alluris, for your assistance."

"It is fine." A shadow fleeted past her face. "I must tell you that I was unable to save your two furry companions."

Isera nearly jumped at the memory, but she forced herself to dip her head in understanding; she was right, after all. The circumstance then had not allowed it. "It was not safe to do so," she forced herself to say, though her heart now felt heavy. She wanted to say more, but could not bring herself to do so. Alluris watched her, a faint glimmer of sympathy swimming in the depths of her gaze. Yet, she offered no comfort, and merely stayed silent.

"Your belongings," she started after a few seconds of silence. "I think it lucky that you had them strapped to your back. Here," from behind she tossed the rucksack, and Isera caught it, placing alongside her quiver and bow.

"How did you come by to learn Darnassian?" Anything to distract her thoughts from Tenma and the saber.

"I picked it up as a child. It is not much different from Thalassian, after all."

"What are you doing out here?"

"I could say the same for you," Alluris replied dryly, though politely. "I had just finished an errand with the tauren at Freewind Post."

"I too had business to attend to," Isera hesitantly responded. "I was just unfortunate to have run into a patrol."

"Some business it must have been," the rogue sounded teasing. "To be located in a place nearly overrun with Horde and obstacles." Isera opened her mouth, but was silenced with the raise of the hand. "I saw your party before I spotted you," she revealed. "A mixture of my allies and yours."

"You—"

"I do not care much for it. The affairs of faction and whatnot do not hold my interest, unless the safety of my people are at stake," Alluris awkwardly said, somewhat assuring Isera. "Your group isn't the first to have crossed paths with me," she added as an afterthought.

"I need to get back to them."

"I'd figured as much. If you're feeling better, we can go and search for them. No doubt that they'd be attempting to track your location, as well."

"You covered our tracks?" Isera confirmed, slowly getting up.

"I had to. Else _they _would have been able to find us."

"How long was I out?"

"About nearly an hour – not too long."

The two now faced one another. Isera flexed her fingers, heaving her sack onto her shoulders.

"You didn't have to have helped me." She allowed a hint of her appreciation to slip in.

"Yes, but," green met silver. "Like I've told you – I've always liked your kind."

.

…

.

"We are so going to _burn _for this," Dell moaned, shaking his head as he paced about. "Couldn't we have executed a much diplomatic method?"

At the far left were the remainder of the group that had been chasing after Isera – tied up and gagged. An orc was furiously attempting to spit out the thick bundle of cloth that had been ruthlessly shoved into his mouth. On the other hand, a brown-black tauren was shooting daggers at the three of them, forcefully attempting to say what seemed to sound like 'Alliance scum'.

"An' wad else would 'ave done da job?" Sen'ji snorted, looking up from where he was watching Nairel treat the large saber's wounds with magic. The cat had calmed down considerably, and was eagerly showing its gratitude by giving big sloppy licks to whoever came near. Tenma lay solemnly beside, appearing disinterested and forlorn.

"Oh, I don't know – going up to them and pretending you were hunting a night elf, as well? Then ask if they had seen her? Instead of having to go through this? It's more trouble than it's worth!" Dell clenched his fists, sighing heavily. "My moral conscience is biting at me, here!" Dell had cast a spell, altering their appearances to be that of Alliance members. He was beginning to feel the strain of managing the spell for over ten minutes.

"Couldn't we get Tenma to sniff her out? Or your raptor?"

"No use," Nairel interrupted. She did not look up from her station. "They may be able to pick up her scent, but I doubt it's that strong to be able to track her all the way to where she is. Our best hope is to ask them. There we go," she pulled back, giving the massive beast a gentle pat on the flank.

Sen'ji did not reply, only gave a grunt in response. He sat himself down, and eyed Nairel as she went over to one of the orcs. Ungagging him, she quickly asked,

"What have you done with the elf?" she snarled. Dell held back a wince at the sudden ferocity.

"We dun know," the orc spat in broken Common, struggling wildly to no avail.

"Don't lie," she hissed. "You were clearly chasing her. Speak!"

"We dun know!" another spoke up angrily. "She run wif some otha figure on a bird!"

"That's all we needed to know," Dell cut in, pushing Nairel to the side. Sen'ji honestly thought the answer was much too vague. Lowering his voice, the human whispered, "Let's go; I can't hold on for much longer."

As the two began to prepare for their departure, Sen'ji remained in his position.

He didn't like to admit it, but he was growing rather concerned for the little elf – not in the manner of an owner fussing over a valuable item, but of one worrying for their friend. Though he knew she was a feisty, stubborn ass, it didn't mean she was immune to all sorts of danger. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and leaned back against the hard rock.

Stupid elf, he thought. He began to think back to when he had first met her, and of all the experiences shared till this point. Most importantly, when he had been stung by the blasted scorpion, and when she had – quite reluctantly – relinquished her chance of freedom to treat his injuries. Following that and many more, he supposed they had become sort of friends.

Hmph, was he actually _missing_ her?

Well, the ambience of the group _did _seem off without her…

Not to mention, her pig-headiness, her annoying yet witty remarks… the way her eyes lit up when—

Nope, _no-pe_.

The key priority was to find her; now wasn't the time for _this_.

As they left, all the while ignoring the muffled screams and shouts from their backs, he thought,

_Just where, exactly, do we start?_

.


	19. Converging Crossroads

.

The two elves rode in silence, down hard pavements and over dry ground. Corpses were strewn about, and Isera quietly noted how Alluris did not seem to be the type to clean up after her less-than-sanguine business.

All was good - none were screaming bloody murder and flinging themselves onto their path. She had to give it to the sin'dorei - she had indeed cleared out sufficient centaurs to ensure their survival. It was thankful, especially since Isera was still slightly drowsy and feeble.

"Human, troll and tauren, yes?" Alluris confirmed from in front, gently steering her hawkstrider - who had lovely, purple-blue ombre feathers. Her mount was not loud, nor did it lapse into bouts of flamboyance.

Best of all, it did not hurt her bottom as much as it did upon Sen'ji Jr.

The night elf nodded, before remembering she would not be able to see her response. She cleared her throat, "Yes."

_What sharp observation skills._

"Of what specialisations are they?"

"Ah—" Here, she thought for a little while, memories vaguely blur and elusive. They darted about her mind, unable to be fully grasped and peered into. Finally, she said, "Mage, warrior and shaman."

"Mm, and how are you faring?"

Despite their short-term acquaintance, Isera found herself liking the rogue - though by no means to an immense extent. The blood elf was calm, collected, with a sarcastic wit and maturity about her. Practicality seemed to be her forte, and all in all, she was such a contrast to what Isera had previously experienced of her people. It was refreshing, but also achingly familiar.

_Especially after having travelled so long with children - if they can be called as such._

"Fine," she returned. "—and if I may know our current location...?"

"I last saw your companions near the path south of Freewind Post - I was thinking of heading about there to scout around. With luck, we may or may not run into them."

_Hopefully not._

_Imagine the looks of their faces should they bear witness to my weakness._

She wrinkled her nose in slight distaste.

_Pft._

They continued on in companionable silence, before Isera opened her mouth.

"They might have caught sight of my being pursued. There's a possibility that they may have gone there, then. Yet, if they had seen _you_—" she mused, already thinking of the bizarre reactions she would maybe receive of her being rescued by a _Horde_. "—they could too be on the way to _us_."

"If we're that fortunate," Alluris replied after a while, having thought about it for several moments. "Then, indeed. We can't take anything to chance," she then added, albeit thoughtfully, before taking on a more decisive tone.

"—but for now - we head south."

.

...

.

"_By Medivh's smelly socks_—!" Dell screamed, running a few paces away from the very ferocious, very angry cloud serpent. "_Kill it, quick_!" he yelled, leaping over a withered bush to dart behind a massive, grey boulder. "_It's the spawn of Sargeras, himself, I swear by my lucky underwear_!"

The serpent, as though offended by such a presumption, hissed and flew towards him in a fury, spitting and beating its wings fiercely. Sky-blue scales glistening beneath the blazing sun and blistering heat, faint traces of energy began to cackle and spark in its agape jaws.

"_It's planning to vaporise me_!" Dell squalled, arms flailing as he scurried away.

"Oh, by Loa's merceh!" Sen'ji snarled, coming forward. "It be just a _snake _wid wings!" he said in exasperation, arching forward to fling one glistening axe with deadly precision into the reptile's skull. As it squealed and choked, he proceeded to further hinder its attempt in 'vaporising' Dell with slices and dices.

Fully incapacitated, the beast dropped to the ground, motionless and the glow of purple-white charge slowly fading away from within its throat. Blood pooled about, and due to the mere intensity of Sen'ji's throws and swings, bits of flesh and innards were splattered a good distance about.

"Well, _pardon me _for not being able to counter its resistance to magic!" Dell huffed, coming closer.

"Just beat it wid ya stick!"

"_Stick_?" Dell repeated, incredulity coming across his features. "You imbecillic troll, did you just call my wooden companion here, a _stick_?"

"I did, ya daft human. Would ya like ta hear dat again?

"Beat. It. Wid. Ya. _Stick_," Sen'ji emphasised the last word smugly.

"I'd have you know," Dell crossed his arms, looking upset. "This marvellous work of fine craftsmanship—"

"It bein' a stick."

"—has a proper name! I will not tolerate any disrespect towards a fine specimen like itself!"

"A fine specimen of a _stick_?"

"If you have had half a mind - you would notice that it's a _magic _'stick'."

"Oh, clam it, you two," Nairel cut in. "You both have been jabbering nonstop!" she shook her head, before leaning in closer to further inspect the limp carcass. "A cloud serpent," she said, blinking in surprise. She drew back, frowning. "Not often we would see one here - not in such a dry, sparse place."

"Why would there be one near Splithoof Crag?" Dell had given up on attempting to correct Sen'ji. "Whatever happened to good ol' centaurs with their mean faces and waving hooves? Have they all migrated?"

"Dead."

"What?" Dell spun around, gaping at the warrior. "Where—" he stopped short, having caught sight of what Sen'ji had been motioning towards.

Peeking out from behind several jagged rocks, was the decapitated head of a centaur. Its expression was that of neutrality and painlessness - as though at the time of its demise, it had not been aware of it occurring, and thus, had not the time to morph and twist into a facet of agony.

"A clean cut - a swift death," Nairel mused. "Think it be Isera's doing?"

"Nah," Sen'ji said. "Da elf fights wid bows an' arrows, not daggas," he paused. "I doubt she be even able ta deliva a blow like dat, anyway. She be betta trained in da arts of da hunt." Then, he stopped midway, before correcting himself. "—but since she's ancient..." he trailed off, self-proclaiming his previous points as moot.

"In other words - it's possible," Nairel nodded.

"We shouldn't be checking here. We should be over at Freewind Post," Dell sniffed, looking around at their surroundings warily. "Isera was being chased by guards. They would have tried to steer her towards their base - it's only logical."

"Da funneh human be right," Sen'ji agreed, however reluctantly. "She could 'ave gotten away, but we should head dere ta check, just ta be safe."

"I'm always right, you cretin."

"I wish Isera were here to pull both your ears," Nairel sighed. "You two speak sense yet.

"We shall head south, then."

.


	20. A Sense of Adventure

.

"How long have we been at this?" Dell tiredly asked, his head landing on the back of his horse's neck with a loud thump. The weather was ridiculously humid, and his outfit - though fabulous and most certainly stylish - for the day was not helping in the slightest. He glanced to his left, where Nairel and Sen'ji were riding on their own mounts.

"Ten minutes. two since your last enquiry, and four since your last _last_," Nairel replied, not taking her eyes off from the path. Well, technically, they weren't on the road. There would be a lower chance of finding the elf, that way. Duh. "We're still some ways from the vicinity of Freewind Post."

"Where are we?" he then questioned, gazing about him curiously. He really was not used to such places. The thought of the cool atmosphere of Dalaran nearly evoked a sense of homesickness in him, and at once, images of hotcross buns drizzled with butter and cinnamon flashed in his mind.

Oh, what he would give for a sip of goat's milk and bite of Aimee's brownies...

"Uh," Nairel paused, suddenly looking uncertain. "We should be heading south from Splithoof Crag... so, somewhere from there to the Post?" she offered, nearly wincing.

"Now I know why Isera's our guide," Dell scoffed, squinting as a ray of light shone directly into his eyes. "Don't we have a map?" he said, clicking his tongue. "Really, and you are migrants, no less! Come! Let Dell Harton have a looksie."

Hah! He would show them! He hadn't taken geography lessons for nothing...

—well, he had been kicked out, but that wasn't the point now, was it?

As he took the map from them, he faltered.

"Well," he sniffed, running a finger whilst clearing his throat. "This isn't too hard," he smiled brightly, ignoring the suspicious look Sen'ji was shooting him. Silly troll - such a pity to not have faith in him.

He stopped, and stared at the parchment for several seconds. "We must be... here!" he gestured to a wide area of the map with a grand flourish.

"Where?" Nairel leaned over.

"Here!" he beamed. "See this little mountain here? It's really little, you might need to stare a little harder."

"Da map be in Darnassian an' drawn by an elvish hand," Sen'ji rolled his eyes. "Nice try, human."

"Oh, what makes you think I don't understand it? I studied in Dalaran, mind you," Dell wrinkled his nose at him, frowning.

Medivh's knickers - why hadn't the professor taught him how to decipher such cryptic, elaborate drawings?

Besides... who made maps in _Darnassian_?

Hmph - still, it _was_ Isera they were talking about...

"Hey, look ahead," Nairel abruptly said, pointing ahead to a stack of pillar-forming rocks some distance away. "Did you see a figure head behind there?" The kodo lumbered forward in her motioned direction. "I think I saw someone there. It seemed to be a lady, or woman of sorts," she thoughtfully said. "Should we check it out? It might be Isera and whoever her saviour is."

"Sure," Sen'ji agreed. "Be careful dough. Dere be a lot of aggressive creatures 'ere."

"Yes, yes," Dell said, impatience igniting in him like a flame. "Let's go." As much as he cared for their elf, he too was beginning to felt the slightest trace of being restless. Perhaps part of it was from worry, while the other half was merely from wanting a break. "Chop chop, lads."

Goodness - was he turning into a dwarf?

As they drew closer and closer, a wretched stench began to waft through the air. It was a most foul smell, and all three felt their noses twitch and wrinkle. Their beastly companions were no better off, though the carnivores began licking their lips. Raw meat, was it? Or a pile of defecate? None could tell for sure, and within several seconds of catching it, Nairel stopped.

"Horrible," she commented, sniffing. "—and most unusual," she said. "Tread lightly."

"Oh, it's probably just a wind serpent and its electrical dung," Dell waved it off, his determination overseeing his disgust. "Or a basilisk unable to find a suitable pooping location. Come," he stepped forward, silently taking on the mantle of guiding the small group of three.

They continued on, though a little slower in their steps. A sudden uneasiness had fallen upon them. They had noticed the surroundings had abruptly taken on a most perturbing silence. Nothing could be heard, seen or felt. Nothing but its barren, desolate landscape, and even the indifference they once felt towards it was beginning to dissipate. Together, they began to adopt a genuine dislike for the place.

"Someding ain't right," Sen'ji quietly said, surveying around them cautiously, and the manner of which he carried himself nearly made Dell intimidated. In a matter of seconds, the troll had made himself seem as feral as his cousins. The wild was perhaps what let loose their feral, dangerous nature.

"Yes," Nairel agreed. "It is silent. The cawing of the vultures are no longer heard. All is still," she observed. "_Too _still." Usually, there would be some disturbance of a kind, such as a stray creature unfortunate - unless it passive - to cross into their path.

"It's getting stronger," Dell suddenly said, his voice low. "It's from up ahead," he noted. They lifted their heads - a long, deserted slope arched upwards, before turning to the right behind more pillars and rocks which they could not see from their current angle and position.

"Are we even on the right track? This is unknown territory to me."

"Have you ever been here before?" Nairel returned, already ascending with the utmost care. Dell fell silent, and they went their way. It was a voiceless topic - untouched, not breached upon, though it swirled about the depths of all their minds. It was no doubt, that they had already lost clear view of where they were headed. Were they towards the Post? Away from the Post? They couldn't say, nor guess with decisive accuracy. Worse, they hadn't been alone for more than two hours. Were Isera there, what amusement she would have felt!

"I feel," Dell said. "as though we have gotten ourselves into a mess, comparable to that of an insect being caught in a spider's web."

"That would depend on the size of the web."

"You _know _\- the types seen in Duskwood. Oh, I already feel goosebumps just by thinking of those monsters!"

"Sadly, I have never been in said place," the shaman replied apologetically.

"Well," Dell, despite his previous words, began to feel eager to elaborate and perhaps spread his intense dislike and fear of the eight-legged beasts he so commonly encountered during his excursions amongst the lonely, howling trees. "They are most large, I must say, like—"

"_Hush_!" Sen'ji interrupted. "Dis be no place fer ya storiehs, human."

"Wait - what is that?" Nairel pointed to behind a boulder, where a foreign object appeared to be discreetly poking out from one side.

"A rock," the mage dully replied, slightly annoyed at being thrown off his own words. "Goody - have we all become paranoid to the point of hallucinations where rocks become child ogres?"

"Not dat," the warrior sighed.

"Whatever it is, we should check it out," Nairel shrugged. "Here, hold this." At this, she tossed her staff over to her fellow Horde, where the blunt of it landed squarely onto the bridge of his nose, and he let out a groan at its impact. Bending down, she then proceeded to inspect the unknown item.

In an instant, she snatched her hand back, and as the rest turned to her curiously, she let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding.

"_Remains_."

They started, and Sen'ji curled his lips.

"Of?" Dell questioned, alarmed and already taking a step back.

"I can't say," she admitted. "I am not too proficient in the art of anatomy. The skulls are... maybe that of a human, gnome or dwarf? An orc, perhaps? It has already decomposed - nothing but bones, now," she explained further, straightening.

"It must have been there a while, if bones."

"It doesn't explain da smell," Sen'ji put in warily. "It's not da first dead body, nor it be da last. Dere be more around 'ere." At this statement, they instantly knew, that they were possibly facing a lethal, fatal threat.

Of course, it was not all uncommon that one or two unlucky travellers would have possibly fallen prey to the place's harsh climate, but as they began to better inspect about, and began to see more evidence, it merely further substantiated the hypothesis.

The smell was not of shit, or of the simple body odour of some unhygienic fauna.

It was from the putrefaction of an unseen cadaver.

A few moments they stood and pondered this fact, with majority of them cursing their misfortune.

"What a grand adventure we're having!" Dell Harton unexpectedly cried, raising both arms in mock joy. "I have heard the advantages of such rustic trips - it brings one new experiences and a broadened mind!"

"_Oh, shut up_," went the chorus.

.


End file.
